An Origin Story
by BlueSuedeShoes
Summary: for Joy Blue: AU in which Oliver Queen's parents never died. "Not until he heard the awe and respect in his parents' voices when speaking of someone else did Oliver determine that he would be more."
1. Prologue: Robin Hood and His Adventures

**Prompt: "I was wondering what would happen if Robert and Laura didn't die, and the reason for Oliver becoming the Green Arrow was because he was jealous of Clark after finding out about the 'Traveler' (without his parents knowing) I just thought, what if he became the GA to prove a point to his parents?"**

* * *

**Prologue:**

**An Account of Robin Hood and His Adventures**

_October 12, 1989_

Oliver Queen, eager to get away from Alexander, and even Patti and Jason (though he usually didn't mind the two latter, crept quietly upstairs.

It was the eighth day in a row that he had been brought to the Luthor Mansion and made to 'play' with the other children, and he was fed up with it. He knew his parents didn't bring him here because they thought he was especially good friends with the other three children, but simply because there was nothing else to be done with him while they made nice to the other parents.

He'd asked why they had to go _again_ today, growing immensely bored with the place. He hadn't minded in the past, but then, in the past, their visits to the Luthors hadn't been so frequent. His parents had told him nothing...nothing valuable, in any case. Even in the fourth grade, he'd been easily able to detect when people were lying to him or withholding information from him. It bothered him that his parents were so secretive about the visits to the Luthors. Normally his parents were relatively honest with him. He couldn't understand why this should be any different.

Silently, he swept along the hallways until he found the study where his parents had joined Lionel Luthor, Genevieve Teague, and Virgil Swann. It was that moment that everything in his life took an ultimate turn. Eavesdropping on one conversation, Oliver's universe suddenly expanded drastically, mostly to include something-or, rather, _someone_-called The Traveler.

Oliver was an ambitious, competitive boy. While his parents were good to him, and perhaps went so far as to spoil him on some levels, he gloried in their attention and approval. Discovering the story of the Traveler awoke something new in him: jealousy. He became strangely envious of someone he had never known, someone his parents were so unquestioningly devoted to. He was someone who was destined to save people, to be a hero, and all Oliver knew for sure that he was destined to do was go to prep school. Until that moment, he had been content with that future, or at least not cared one way or the other. No, not until he heard the awe and respect in his parents' voices when speaking of someone else did Oliver determine that he would be more.

He would be great.

* * *

_October 14, 1989_

Oliver sat grumpily in his bedroom at home, glowering at the book before him, too bored to bother reading it. He sneezed. Groaning in misery he threw his head back on his pillow.

Laura Queen entered the room, opening the door just a crack and peeking around it to be sure her son wasn't sleeping. Finding it to the contrary, she chuckled softly and walked in and sat down on Oliver's bed, laying a gentle hand across his forehead.

Oliver didn't say anything, so she spoke first. "We've decided not to go."

He looked up at her, surprised.

"To Seoul, I mean. Your father and I decided to postpone the trip until next week."

"Why?"

She smiled. Truthfully? She hadn't want to leave her son behind while he was sick. She shook her head. "It was more convenient for everyone." Which was partially true, the politician they were visiting was perfectly fine with setting back the date, and the airstrip had reported to them some suspicious behavior the previous night. Had they been determined to leave that day, they might not have bothered, but since they had time now, she and Robert had requested their jet be thoroughly looked over, to make sure it was in fine condition. She expected some thief had syphoned the gas or something along those lines. "What are you reading?" she asked Oliver, who was looking considerably cheered at the fact that his parents were staying home. "_The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood_ by Howard Pyle," she read aloud. She looked mildly surprised. "Where did you find this?"

"Your bookshelf," he said unabashedly. He knew he was welcome to any book in the house.

"This is awfully heavy reading for a fourth-grader," she said amusedly.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I noticed." He hadn't made it past the first page.

Laura smiled at the book, fingering the pages. "I always liked this story."

Which, of course, piqued his interest. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Good versus evil. Damsels in distress. A hero rising to defend the weak. It doesn't get much better than that," she joked.

He looked intrigued.

"Out of curiosity, what was wrong with the books on your shelf?" she asked, glancing across the room where a large set of shelves housed Oliver's many books.

"I've read them all."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Have you really? We should fix that sometime soon. In the meantime, though..." she trailed off, scooting over next to him on the bed and propping herself up on a pillow. She opened the book to the first page and began to read:

"_Giving an account of Robin Hood and his adventure with the King's foresters. Also telling how his Band gathered around him; and of the merry adventure that gained him his good right-hand man, the famous Little John_.

"_Prologue: In merry England in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest, near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood. No archer ever lived that could speed a gray goose shaft with such skill and cunning as his, nor were there ever such yeomen as the sevenscore merry men that roamed with him through the greenwood shades..."_


	2. Ch 1: Maid Marion Comes to Nottingham

**Chapter 1:**

**Maid Marion and How She Came to Nottingham**

(Present Day)

George Weisinger leaned across his desk and scrutinized the young woman before him. "Look, young lady, I'm not going to pretend you haven't got a good resume. You do. I'm not going to pretend I'm not impressed by the personal letter of recommendation from Perry White. I am. I'm not even going to pretend that you're not a good writer. You are."

Chloe Sullivan met his eyes. "But?" she prompted.

"But I want to know why the Planet fired you, and why no one over there would take my calls when I tried to do a background check on you." He looked at her expectantly, and Chloe recognized that the former reporter had slipped out of interviewing her for a job and into interviewing her for a story. She could see the difference in his eyes.

Chloe smiled. "I barked up the wrong tree."

"Whose?"

"Lex Luthor's. In response, he bought out the Daily Planet just so he could fire me." She rolled her eyes at the over-dramatic response to her planned article and tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Weisinger looked so surprised by this response to his question that he actually leaned back in his chair and stared at her. "You what?"

This time, a bit of ice crept into her tone. "Please don't make me repeat it."

He laughed. He didn't chuckle; he outright laughed loudly, a deep sound that resonated through his chest, and Chloe bristled. Gathering her resume and portfolio from the desk, she stood to leave, knowing a lost cause when she saw one. Weisinger's hand reached out to stop her. "All right, Sullivan. Anyone with that much nerve is welcome at my paper. You start tomorrow. I expect nothing short of Pullitzer material from you. There will be a desk waiting for you. Come see me for your first assignment."

Hardly daring to believe her good fortune, Chloe shook his hand vigorously. "Thank you so much. You won't regret this."

His jolliness diminished as he switched into a tone that suggested superiority, indicating that she had just made the transition into being his employee. "I should hope not. Like I said, Sullivan: I want Pullitzers from you, nothing less."

Chloe grinned confidently. "You'll get them," she said before leaving his office. Once outside she glanced up at the building, beaming at the sign above her head: Star City Gazette.

She stopped at a coffee shop on her way home and sipped contentedly on the overpriced concoction as she walked, taking in the glorious day around her. Being fired from the Planet had been such a heavy blow--she shook her head at the thought, not liking to dwell on it--she'd never thought she'd recover. She'd been positive Luthor would have her blacklisted, and her only hope had been Mr. White--_Perry_, as he insisted she call him. She'd never thought he'd come through so much for her, considering how little he knew of her. Since their chance meeting in Smallville years ago, she'd kept brief contact with him, recognizing what a valuable connection he could be, and he'd given her a lot of tips along the way. She'd told him the story of her tango with Luthor and he'd been overcome with a combination of indignation on her behalf, pride in her for not selling out, and determination to help her. When he wrote the letter of recommendation it had been more than enough, but the fact that he had gone out of his way to set her up for interviews at paper across the country...well, she hadn't known what to say. She'd never imagined that Perry White held as much weight as he did in the journalistic world. She'd received interviews from everywhere: The Post, The News, The Times...the list went on. When she'd gotten the call from the Gazette, though, actually requesting_ an interview, _it had been more than she'd been able to hope for. Moving to Star City was her chance to start over.

With this thought, she passed over the boundary between Orchid Bay and the neighborhood referred to as the "Triangle." She shuddered at the thought of taking this route home every day. It was all right in daylight, but the Triangle had long been fought over by Star City's various organized crime factions, and to say the least, it wasn't precisely a _nice_ neighborhood. She hoped she wouldn't have to invest in a car, but it might be her only option. She wouldn't go to that extreme yet, though. With any luck she'd be safe to walk home or if she got jittery, take the bus. After all, she wasn't some helpless damsel in distress. She didn't carry a pistol in her purse because it matched her belt buckle.

The walk through the Triangle eventually led her to The Glades. She needed to tell the manager of the apartment complex there that she wanted take the place on the tenth floor after all.

* * *

Two weeks later, Chloe was finally in the groove of things. Moving into her apartment had been easy with Clark to help her. He was sorry to see her moving away, but promised to come visit her occasionally. Chloe wasn't worried. Clark would be more than fine without her. He had Lois now. It wouldn't be difficult at all for him to make those visits, and secretly--though not without much guilt--she was a little bit glad to be putting some miles between herself and Clark. Yes, he was her best friend, and yes, she would always be there when he needed her, but the complications that Clark and his secret had brought into her life...well, they were beginning to take their toll on her. She was readily embracing her new life in Star City without regret.

At work, she was already earning the respect of those around her. Unlike at the Planet, she hadn't had to work her way up from the basement. Weisinger had dropped her in the bull pen to see how she'd handle it, and so far she was rising to the occasion. He'd assigned her a series of articles so eclectic that she could tell he was testing her. So far she'd covered a new display at the Grell Museum, interviewed the coach of the Rockets (Star City's baseball team) about the upcoming season, attended the newly elected mayor Thomas Bolt's inauguration, and interviewed the head architect of a project which would update Star Bridge to make it safer. She couldn't believe her good luck that Weisinger was trusting her with these things, and she'd managed not to let him down yet. She just prayed she could hold his favor.

She'd finally found a decent place on the way to the Gazette, and as she swilled the remnants of an Almond Mocha in the bottom of her cup, she reviewed her most recent article, spellchecking it before sending it to the printers.

"Hi, Miss Sullivan," said a shy voice. Chloe looked up and grinned at fifteen-year-old Jeremy, who was wearing a camera around his neck and blushing furiously. Jeremy was a very sweet, polite boy with red hair and freckles and of average height for his age. Apparently the young man had developed a small crush on her over the past couple of days.

"Hi, Jeremy. How are you today?"

"I'm good," he beamed. "I've got those pictures of the suspension bridge you wanted," he held them up for her. "And Mr. Weisinger sent me to get you, said it's important."

Chloe's grin became slightly more set as the familiar determination gripped her. She wondered vaguely what Weisinger had in store for her today. "Thanks, Jeremy." She flipped through the photos briskly and grinned at their quality. "Great photos. Thanks. Would you mind grabbing my last article from the printer for me? I don't want to keep Weisinger waiting."

Delighted, Jeremy nodded. "No problem, Miss Sullivan. Good luck!" he added over his shoulder as he ran off.

Chloe strode purposefully into Weisinger's office without knocking. "You wanted to see me?" she announced her entrance, and Weisinger looked up.

"What took you so long?" he asked brusquely, and Chloe hid a smile. She knew he already approved of her vastly, but his way of showing it was to be as surly as possible. The man before her flipped through a few things, made an irritable call to his secretary, and lit a cigar before eventually getting around to Chloe. She knew he was making her wait on purpose, but she didn't take the bait, just waited patiently for him to get around to it. "Got an interview for you. I figured with your history with Luthor, this should be right up your alley. Billionaires and all," he shrugged, an amused smirk flickering across his face. "Robert Queen, head of Queen Industries, is signing a new deal with the Pentagon. He's agreed to an interview. You'll meet him at 5:30 at the Queen building."

Chloe swallowed. For the first time since Weisinger had hired her, she wondered whether she were the right person for the job. The last time she'd gone head to head with the billionaire CEO of a company, she'd ended up having her entire life uprooted. Then again, from what she knew of Queen Industries, it was at a completely different end of the spectrum from Luthorcorp.

Weisinger quirked an eyebrow at her silence. He put on a high pitched voice. "Why thank you, Mr. Weisinger. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity. I promise I won't let you down." His voice returned to its usual gruff quality, "That's all right, Sullivan, just don't screw up." High again, "No, really. I don't deserve the amazing treatment you've given me. It's too much. I don't know what to say." His own voice again, "Shut up, Sullivan." High, "Yes, Mr. Weisinger."

Chloe tried her best not to, but she laughed anyway. "Thank you, Mr. Weisinger. I'll take care of it."

He ignored her statement. "Where's that article on the Star Bridge I ordered? I expected on my desk five min--"

"Miss Sullivan?" Jeremy had poked his head timidly inside the office. "I have that article for you."

Smiling at him, Chloe took the article and photographs off his hands and gave them to the editor. "Thanks Jeremy," she whispered before he ducked out.

Grousing under his breath regardless, Weisinger grumbled for Chloe to quit slacking, and Chloe took it as her cue to take her leave.

She sat down wearily at her desk and checked her e-mail. There was a brief one from Lois, asking how she was doing at the Gazette and then swiftly delving into her latest triumph at the Planet. Chloe smiled as she read it, shaking her head at her cousin. Eventually she noted that she should leave early to change and make herself presentable for the interview with Robert Queen.

At home, she changed into fresh clothes and washed her face before reapplying her makeup. As she did so, she had her laptop before her and was researching everything there was to know about Robert Queen, Queen Industries, and the new contract with the Pentagon so that she could compile her interview questions.

At exactly 5:20, Chloe was getting out of her taxi and riding the elevator up to the top floor, the executive's office.

When she walked in the door five minutes later, she found Mr. Queen's secretary, a thin, flighty looking woman with tightly curled brown hair, seated at her desk as a tall, attractive young man leaned across it. Chloe instantly noted that the secretary was blushing, and Chloe smiled. Then she heard what he was saying.

"You know, Miss Hart, have I ever told you I love that perfume you wear?"

If possible, Miss Hart blushed an even deeper shade of red. "Only every time you want something."

He leaned forward even further, grinning. "Well, I mean it. What scent is that?"

"Chanel No. 5"

"I'll have to remember to send you some for you birthday. It's in about a month isn't it."

Genuinely flustered, the woman nodded, and Chloe rolled her eyes, as yet unnoticed by either of them.

"Listen, all I want is to talk to him. I just need you to tell me where he is. I won't even tell him it was you. Is he in his office or not?"

"I told you, sir, he's not to be disturbed. He has an appointment beginning any minute now. I'm sorry." There was a note of exasperation to her voice even as she managed to be flattered by his sweet-talk.

Just as the man was opening his mouth to reply, Chloe decided to make herself known. "Actually, his appointment is here," she raised her hand slightly as though indicating her presence. Miss Hart and the man looked up in surprise.

"You must be Miss Sullivan," said the secretary, jotting something down before sending a page, clearly grateful for the break from undesired flirtation.

"Yes. I'm here to see Mr. Queen."

At this, the man smirked and leaned against the desk so as to face her. "Look no further."

Chloe fought an urge to roll her eyes. Careful to keep as much of the disdain out of her voice as possible, she replied, "You are _not_ Robert Queen."

The smirk became more distinct. "Nope. His son."

Immediately Chloe was grateful she hadn't done or said anything stupid. She'd heard a fair amount of gossip about Oliver Queen. He was rumored to be taking over his father's company in the next few years, though that hadn't been confirmed. Though he was thought of as a shrewd businessman, very much his father's son in that way, he was also Star City's wild child, so to speak. He got into more trouble than the media could keep up with, and he usually did it all with at least one woman per arm. She swallowed. _Billionaires_.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at Chloe's silence, but Miss Hart interrupted them. "You can go on in, Miss Sullivan. He's expecting you."

Oliver's expression quickly turned to an indignant one. "Now how come you'll do that for _her_?"

Chloe failed to suppress a grin. "You heard her, I'm _expected_," she said, nudging him slightly as she walked past him to the secretary's desk. She leaned over the desk as though to say something confidential. "Anything I should know about him?"

"He likes blondes," she said, rolling her eyes. "And he drinks too much for his own good."

Chloe frowned before realizing what she meant. "I meant the father," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh. Don't worry. You'll be fine. Mr. Queen is an extremely kind man."

Chloe smiled. "Thanks..."

"Leanne."

"Thank you, Leanne." With which remark, Chloe headed straight into the office, purposefully not giving Oliver Queen a second glance.


	3. Ch 2: King Richard and Little John

**Chapter 2:**

**King Richard and Little John**

"Hello there, Miss Sullivan," Robert Queen, a man who looked very much like his son in many ways, rose to shake Chloe's hand politely. Chloe instantly took note of the fact that he made firm eye-contact when he shook her hand--a sure sign of good breeding and manners. He held it more delicately and didn't shake it too roughly, meaning that he treated women with a sense of chivalry. When he spoke he sound genuinely pleased to meet her, and not like he was exasperated that he had to deal with a reporter. The fact that he rose when she entered the room was a sign of respect for her both as a person and a woman, and that he didn't think himself too high and mighty to rise from his seat when someone allegedly inferior to him entered the room.

In short, she liked him instantly.

"Hi, Mr. Queen. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for granting us the interview."

"Not a problem, Miss Sullivan. Please, take a seat," he gestured the chair in front of his desk. "I learned a long time ago that the easiest thing is to talk to the press yourself first thing, and that way there's no chance for wild rumors to start up."

Chloe grinned at his reasoning, and turned on her tape recorder. "Speaking of wild rumors, what do you say to the accusations from certain protest groups that Queen Industries should be doing away with its weapons division altogether rather than war-profiteering?"

Mr. Queen smiled. "To that, Miss Sullivan, I say that if we didn't have weapons, we would be sitting ducks. It comes right down to the right to bear arms, in a way. If you outlawed weapons, then only the bad guys would have them."

Chloe nodded. "Interesting. What about--on the opposite end of the spectrum--the recent concerns that weapons industries across the country have been getting cheap and sloppy? Would you say Queen Industries has been cutting any corners to save money?"

"While we are always looking for ways to be cost-efficient, the integrity of our products, in _any_ division, will always come first. Particularly with weapons, our first concern is that our weapons are functional, safe to operate, and as advanced as possible. We'd like our boys to be armed with the best of the best, if you will. The Pentagon knows that, and that's why they've been dealing with Queen Industries for the better part of two decades now."

"How will the new contract change your relationship with the Pentagon?"

"Well, we'll be receiving better funding for our projects, particularly our research departments. We'll have a guaranteed customer for another ten years, and I get a bottle of my favorite brandy from the White House every Christmas," he joked.

Chloe chuckled pleasantly. "Thanks. So..." she said, flipping through her notes briefly, "a little closer to home: there are rumors of a potential merger with Luthorcorp." Robert Queen had been seen meeting with Lionel Luthor. The conversation had apparently been rather heated.

Chloe watched as the face of the man in front of her hardened slightly. "Queen Industries is not looking to deal with Luthorcorp in any way in the predictable future. Certain things, of course, we have understandings and contracts over, but a merger has not even been mentioned."

"What was the meeting in Metropolis last week about?"

His jaw flexed almost unnoticeably. "That was a personal visit. Lionel Luthor is a very old family acquaintance."

"I see. Thank you. What about the allegations that your son will be taking over the company in the near future?"

All tension immediately seeped out of the room again. "Off the record, Miss Sullivan," he grinned, "Oliver won't be doing anything of the sort until he grows up a bit. On the record, I'm hoping to give him more responsibilities gradually over the next five years. At that time, I'll be making some serious evaluations about my own retirement, and whether or not the company's ready for the transition."

Chloe smiled, understanding 'the company' to mean 'Oliver.' Glancing at her notes one last time, she came to her last question. "I understand you'll be hosting some charity event in the near future. Can you tell me about that?"

He beamed at the question. "Of course. Queen Industries will be hosting a charity ball on the 16th of next month in an effort to raise money for the relief efforts off of the Gulf Coast since the strike of the recent hurricane."

Still smiling, Chloe put away her note pad. "That's all the questions I've got for you, unless there's anything else you'd like to share with the public?"

Mr. Queen shook his head, and Chloe rose from her chair. He rose in response and walked her to the door. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Miss Sullivan."

"Thank you so much for your time, sir. It was very nice to have met you." Chloe shook his hand one last time before exiting his office, where she was surprised to find Oliver Queen still waiting.

"I didn't catch your name before," he said. "And Miss Hart here refuses to give it to me without your consent."

Chloe glanced at the indicated woman, who looked uncertain. "Leanne," Chloe grinned, "you're a good woman."

Leanne grinned back at her, and Chloe left, leaving a rather frustrated, surprised Oliver Queen behind her.

Oliver watched her go with interest. He shook his head and glanced at Leanne. "Miss Hart, you wound me deeply."

She looked up at him arrogantly. "I know. I still expect perfume for my birthday."

Grinning, Oliver nodded his head. "Anything for you, you beautiful woman, now, if you'll excuse me...." he headed for his father's office.

Leanne looked shocked. "Mr. Queen, I told you--" her voice was cut off by the sound of the door shutting smartly behind him. Looking at the closed door apprehensively, Leanne settled back in her seat in resignation. "He's going to be the death of my career," she muttered wearily.

* * *

Oliver, exhausted with his father's refusal to tell him what his meeting with Lionel Luthor had been about, made his way up to his penthouse apartment. He still spent the summer months at the Queen Mansion (if the family wasn't traveling) to placate his mother, but the rest of the year, he lived on his own.

When the door of the elevator slid open he tensed at the recognition of a second presence but then instantly relaxed. "Hal!" he greeted pleasantly, walking over to grasp the other man's hand genially. "One of these days you're going to tell me how you always get in here without setting off any alarms."

Hal Jordan grinned easily, dropping into an arm chair. "Maybe if you're lucky, but I doubt it."

"What brings you to town?"

"Well, first, I'm still wondering when you're going to start touring the country with me. The offer's still good, man. Come on: Green Arrow, Green Lantern. It's a team waiting to happen."

Oliver hid a grimace at the word 'team.' He shook his head, going to the bar to pour them each a drink. "You know how it is, man. Too many ties keeping me in this city. I'd never be able to explain my absence."

Hal rolled his eyes mockingly. "Poor little billionaire."

Oliver shot him a look. "Yeah, because you've got it _so_ bad."

His friend only smirked innocently, accepting the drink Oliver offered him.

"What _really_ brings you here? We both know you only drop by for a good reason. I sincerely doubt you're that tired of being a free agent."

Hal took a sip of his drink, swallowing tightly before answering. "I think I found him."

"Who?" Oliver asked, taking a seat.

"The guy you're always talking about. The travel guy."

Oliver choked. Coughing and pounding a fist against his chest, he sputtered, "You _found_ the traveler?"

"Yeah, that guy."

Oliver stared at Hal in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"As the grave man. Picked up the tip that your dad was arguing with Luthor Sr. again, and I decided to head over to Metropolis. Turns out some dude over there's been pulling a little hero work of his own."

"And?" Oliver asked, hardly able to contain himself. "Well, who is he?"

Hal shrugged. "They're calling him The Red-Blue-Blur over at the Planet--of all the absurd names--and I have a theory about who it might be."

"Yeah?"

"I figure it's someone working at the Daily Planet. That or the police station. It's the only way he could know about so many crime scenes so quickly. He's got to be getting a heads up one way or another."

"What makes you think he's the guy?"

"He's called the Blur for a reason. Moves faster than the eye can see. No one's even gotten a look at him, but he's saved hundreds of lives just in the last year. Dozens of people have reported finding flattened bullets on the ground, as if they hit something too hard to penetrate." He grinned at Oliver. "Or _someone_ too hard to penetrate. I'm thinking this guy's the real deal, man. Bullet proof vests can't do that much."

Oliver was lost in thought, though. Was it possible? It explained Luthor's ties to Metropolis. Did Lionel know who it was? Perhaps that was why he and Oliver's father had been arguing. Not that they ever got along, or anything, not since the sabotaged plane. His parents had never been able to pin it on Lionel, but they'd had their suspicions, and when Swann and the Teagues had gone off the map a couple of years ago, they'd known it had something to do with Lionel.

"Earth to Robin Hood."

Oliver looked up. "Sorry. What?"

"I said, are we gonna hit the town, or what?"

"Hit it how?" Oliver mused, the corner of his mouth twitching. With Hal, it was one of two things.

"I say we patrol for an hour or two, then hit some clubs and party it up. It's been, like, six months since you and I got smashed together."

Or both. Oliver grinned. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Chloe grumbled to herself, leaping lithely over a muddy puddle in the sidewalk. "Stupid taxis," she muttered vexedly. She hadn't been able to get _one_ to stop for her, and her cell was dead when she got out of the Queen building, so she couldn't call the company to send her one. Instead she was being forced to walk all the way across the city. Alone. In the dark.

Why her?

Her feet were killing her, and she was about ready to take her heels off and barefoot it, if it weren't so cold and she weren't afraid of broken glass lying around. The walk across the city from the Queen Building to her apartment would take her a good hour at best.

_Almost there_, she reminded herself exhaustedly, glancing at her watch. It had been at least forty minutes.

"When this is over," she huffed under her breath, overstepping another puddle, "I'm writing a scathing article on the taxi industry."

And then, as though the universe had been waiting to lure her into a perfect moment of vulnerability, someone grabbed her and pulled her into an alley, holding a gun to her.

"Hand over the bag, gorgeous."

Chloe rolled her eyes in automatic response. Why was it always her?

**Author's Comment: So, I did a fair amount of research on the character Green Arrow (outside of the Smallville universe) for this story, trying to get insight on his parents, possible villains to use, etc. The main result: I simply **_**had **_**to write in Hal Jordan. **


	4. Ch 3: Of Rescuing Fair Maidens

**Chapter 3:**

**Of Rescuing Fair Maidens**

"Do I just have a big sign on my back that says 'Please Threaten My Life?' " Chloe asked her assailant irritably, her hand sliding discreetly toward the opening in her purse where her handgun was stored.

The mugger didn't like her nonchalant attitude. He cocked his pistol in warning. "Just hand over the bag, lady, and you can go home in one piece," he said.

Chloe sighed. They could at least come up with original lines. She wondered if she should call for help or take him down herself.

Deciding the latter was safer, she caught him off guard by dropping her purse on the ground instead of handing it to him. The moment he angrily stooped to pick it up, she kicked his hand, throwing his aim off of her and pulled her own weapon on him.

"I suggest you run," she informed him.

But he had his gun on her again. "You don't have it in you, lady," he retorted as they stared each other down.

"Maybe she doesn't, but I do," came a male voice. Chloe was startled as a green light surrounded both of their guns and raised them into the air and out of reach.

The light was connected to the ring on the hand of a strange man wearing a mask. He wore a black and green costume with a kind of hour glass on the front.

"Holy--" the man didn't even finish his sentence before taking off at a run. Chloe, on the other hand, looked at the man vexedly, her hand landing on her hip.

"What is it about me?" she asked heatedly.

The man lifted an amused eyebrow, handing her gun back. "Well, you were walking down a dark street alone in a bad neighborhood. What do you expect?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Not that part. I almost _expected_ that to happen. I meant _you_. How is it that no matter where I go, people like _you_ seem to flock to that place?" She rolled her eyes heavenward.

He smirked. "You know, I was going to ask if you were all right, but somehow I feel like you might resent it."

Chloe nodded curtly. "What's your name anyway?" she asked. "Hour Glass Man?"

He actually laughed at that. "It's Green Lantern."

She shrugged. "Whatever. So what are you? Human with gadgets? Or do you actually have some superhuman power as well?"

The Green Lantern gave her a humorous look. "You wouldn't believe me. What's with you anyway?"

She shrugged. "Half my life has been swamped by threats to my well-being and dealing with _heroes_," she said the word with a certain irony behind it.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm human. The ring is alien technology."

Chloe stared at him, and at first he was going to say 'I told you so,' thinking she didn't believe him, but then she shook her head in exasperation. "Not more _aliens_, too," she groaned. Then she looked at him. "You don't actually hang out in this city do you? You're just passing through, right?"

He smirked. "You sound so eager to be rid of me, considering I just came to your rescue."

She looked unimpressed. "If I were a normal person, I'd appreciate that a lot more. Not to mention I had the situation under control," she added under her breath. "But for some reason, unlike normal people, who have every reason to be grateful for people like you, I just end up having my life unbearably complicated by your existence."

He studied her carefully, trying to decide if maybe she weren't a bit crazy. "Do you?"

She nodded. "You just wait and see," she groaned. "It's going to happen. It always does."

"Because you have so much experience with people like me?" he said, amused.

She looked at him seriously. "You'd better believe it. I can't escape you people for some reason. Anyway, I'd like to go home now." She held out her hand to shake his. "Thanks for rescuing me," she said like she was thanking him for a pair of socks, "My name's Chloe Sullivan. I work at the Gazette. Look me up when you need help."

He shook her hand laughingly, no longer sure if she were serious or not. "What makes you think I'll need your help?"

She shrugged, knowing he wasn't taking her seriously and not caring. "You will. They always do at one point or another."

She thought of the men she'd met over the years in Smallville and Metropolis. Clark was the given, but there had been those passing through as well. Bart, Victor, AC, J'onn J'onz....and now this nutter with the glowing ring. One way or another, they all ended up coming to her for something.

The Green Lantern laughed genuinely at her response. "I'll remember that then, Miss...what was it again?"

"Sullivan," she supplied dryly.

"Do you need a ride home?" he offered, lifting his ring hand.

She shook her head. "I'm almost there. I'll scream if I'm attacked twice in one night. I'll be the one sarcastically chewing my assailant's ear off."

He laughed, watching her walk away. "Duly noted. Thanks for the tip."

* * *

"I'm telling you, man. She was totally serious!" Hal laughed to Oliver later that evening at a club in town.

Oliver was laughing uncontrollably.

"She just looked me dead in the eye and said 'I'm so-and-so. I work for the paper. Call me when you end up needing me.' "

"Unbelievable. You think she was kidding or crazy or what?"

"Dude," he shook his head. "I think she was for real. She was dead serious. And I don't think she was crazy. I told you, she pretty much had that mugger under control. I just intervened so no shots had to be fired. Crazy people can't maintain that much calm under pressure."

"Oh can't they?" Oliver arched a brow comically.

"Ollie, we're not crazy. We're eccentric."

Oliver shook his head before downing another shot. "Naw, man. _I'm_ eccentric. You're crazy."

"How do you figure?"

"You have to be rich to be eccentric. Craziness is the poor man's eccentricity."

Hal laughed before noticing a rather shapely redhead trying to catch his eye from across the room.

Oliver noticed, too, but Hal nudged him. "Dibs," he said, before sauntering off toward the girl.

* * *

Stumbling drunk, Oliver somehow made his way back to his own room later that night. He'd successfully ditched all women hanging off his arm that night. Rare though the occurrence might be, he wasn't in the mood.

Hal had taken off with the redhead earlier in the night, and Oliver had said goodbye to him then, knowing he'd have left Star City by the following morning undoubtedly.

He liked Hal Jordan. They had a lot in common. Both felt the need to live their lives with no inhibitions...in more ways than one. But Hal was more than just someone to take shots with. He was someone who shared Oliver's desire to make a difference in the world.

He envied Hal, though, and he would readily admit it if it had ever occurred to Hal to ask, which it never would. Oliver had grown up determined to prove to his parents that he, too, could be a hero. When he'd gotten older, somehow he'd made the transition from proving something to them, to proving something to himself. But all he had was his own mortal strength and abilities, along with a few fancy gadgets. Hal had been selected--much as Oliver didn't like thinking about the 'life on other planets' concept--by extraterrestrial _guardians_--or whatever--to be a member of some sort of intergalactic police squad. Hal had been chosen to wield the most dangerous weapon in the universe. Oliver had been chosen to inherit a company.

He knew that inheriting Queen Industries was no laughing matter. Neither was it something to be ungrateful for, but he couldn't help but envy someone like Hal, who had been granted a higher calling than to be part of the business world.

For some reason his mind drifted to the woman Hal had been talking about earlier that evening, the one who claimed that heroes flocked to her. He wondered vaguely, as he undressed himself and headed for bed, whether it were true. Was there such a person? Someone who, though a mere mortal like him, had been chosen by some higher entity to play phone support for the heroes of the world? He heaved a sigh. Another person to envy then.

He wondered who she was, this woman Hal had saved. He wished for a brief moment it had been him. He would have liked to meet this girl. Besides, Hal had said she was gorgeous. A tiny blonde who packed a punch. It reminded him irrepressibly of the woman he'd met in his father's office earlier in the day. It sounded like an apt description of her, granted that he'd had little to no conversation with her. Still.

* * *

The next morning, Chloe was feeling particularly harassed at work. She was behind schedule. She'd planned on writing the Queen article first thing last night, but after being forced to walk all the way home, getting mugged, and making the discovery that no matter how far away she ran, she'd never escape superheroes, she'd been too exhausted to write. So she'd been writing all morning, excepting the interruptions from Jeremy and Annette, the society-columnist.

Jeremy had surprised her with a cup of coffee, to which she would be eternally grateful, because her usual morning cup had simply not been enough to sustain her.

"Need a photographer today, Miss Sullivan?" he asked excitedly, snapping her picture for the fun of it.

Chloe smiled sympathetically. "I'll let you know, but I don't think so. Not today, at least."

He'd shrugged pleasantly enough, undeterred. "No worries. Tomorrow then."

She smiled as she watched him go.

Annette's interruption had lasted longer. Chloe liked Annette, overall, and had made friends with her quickly after coming to the Gazette. Annette had short, dark brown hair, excitable, round green eyes, and a wide smile. The moment Annette walked into work she made a bee-line for Chloe's desk.

"So did you meet him?" she asked excitedly.

"Who? Robert Queen?"

She shook her head. "Of course not! _Oliver_ Queen."

Chloe smiled, remembering her encounter with the man.

Seeing the look on Chloe's face, Annette squealed. "Oh my God, you did!"

Chloe shrugged. "Briefly."

"What was he like?" Annette pressed.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. A brazen flirt? He was trying to womanize his father's secretary into letting him into the man's office."

Annette giggled. _"Unbelievable. _ Do you realize he's the city's most eligible bachelor? He's to die for."

Chloe looked amused. "Is he? How does one qualify for that title, I wonder?"

"You saw him," Annette giggled. "You tell me."

Chloe shook her head. "Whatever. Hey, I've got a question for you. What's the story on vigilantes in this city?"

Annette looked bemused. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Chloe answered noncommittally.

"Well, I'm surprised you didn't already know about this, but I guess you _are_ new in town. Star City is home of the Green Arrow."

Chloe frowned. "The Green Which?"

"Arrow."

"Not Lantern?"

Annette looked surprised. "No. Although there have been reports of the Green Lantern showing up around here once in a while over the years. But he never sticks around."

Chloe's frown deepened. "What do you think brings him through here?"

Annette shrugged. "How should I know what goes on behind those masks?"

"So who's the Green Arrow?" Chloe changed tactics.

Apparently, Annette had been hoping she would ask that. She sat down on the edge of Chloe's desk and made a visible effort to contain her excitement. "He's like this Robin Hood type character. Some people think he's a crook. Other people say he's a hero."

"I take it you agree with the latter."

Annette gave her a look as though to say how painfully obvious that should be. "The crime rate in Star City has dropped dramatically since he showed up, and besides, countless people have reported that he saved their lives in the past three years," she sighed dreamily, and Chloe deduced that Annette wouldn't mind a little mortal peril in her life if it meant being rescued by a masked vigilante.

"So is he some sort of superhero or is he more the Batman type?"

"Batman is my guess. Nobody's ever said anything about him having powers, but he uses a bow and arrow, and he can hit _anything_."

"I'll bet he can," Chloe muttered humorously. "Anyway, thanks, Annette, I'm sorry to be rude, but I've just _got _to finish this article up before George comes after my blood."

* * *

**Author's Comment: Okay, I know. Everyone was expecting a GA rescue, not GL, but I couldn't help myself. I resist being thought of as predictable. lol Hope you weren't **_**too**_** disappointed!**


	5. Ch 4: Queens and Royal Banquets

**Chapter 4:**

**Queens and Royal Banquets**

_One Month later_

Chloe took a deep breath. She was going to get this one. She was.

After about three weeks at the Gazette, Weisinger had stopped spoon-feeding her articles. She'd sufficiently proven herself worthy, and so she was expected to find the stories on her own. Or convince him to give them to her.

Which was exactly what she was planning to do now.

She walked confidently into the editor's office. "You wanted to see me?" she asked.

Weisinger looked properly startled for once. "Did I?" He looked confused, with good reason, of course. Chloe had invited herself in. She was confusing him on purpose. She nodded.

"Yes."

Attempting to save face, he grumbled, "Right, yes, of course, Sullivan..." he trailed off, trying to remember why he would have called for her.

"I think it was about the Queen Charity Ball tomorrow night. The hurricane relief effort project?"

Now he looked sufficiently dumbfounded. "The gala? Umm...right, naturally."

"You mentioned that since I interviewed Mr. Queen last month, it would only make sense for me to cover the function. A kind of follow-up article?" Chloe 'reminded' him.

Weisinger seemed to take in the idea. "Of course. Just the thing. Glad I thought of it. Queen actually called to let us know that he liked you, said to send you over in the future, too."

It was Chloe's turn to look surprised. "He did?"

"What do you think? I'm making it up? Of course he did. Said he liked your spunk and he thought the article was dead on."

Chloe positively glowed.

"What are you standing around for? What am I paying you for? Make sure you dress appropriately for this thing tomorrow, got it?"

"Absolutely, sir. No problem," Chloe promised, fleeing his office before he could realize what she'd done.

Flushed with success, she grabbed Jeremy's arm as he past in front of her. "Hey, handsome," she teased the teenager. "Think you can rent a tux for tomorrow? You'll need one."

* * *

"Oliver, I just don't understand why you're not bringing a date tomorrow."

Oliver groaned inwardly. He'd agreed to take his mother out to lunch purely out of curiosity. Whenever she said that she wanted to spend more time with her son, it meant he was in the doghouse for something. This time, he hadn't been able to think what he'd done. All things considered, he'd sufficiently avoided any major trouble the last couple of months. "If it's that important to you, Mom, I'll bring someone, but considering your complete disdain for my past couple of dates, I thought you'd prefer if I went solo tomorrow night." He liked keeping his mother happy, he really did. It didn't stop him from having his share of tumbles in bed, but he tried not to bring those kind of women around his parents, for more reasons than one.

She sighed. "How hard is it to find a woman with a college education, Oliver, darling? _Honestly_."

He chuckled. "I'm not looking for someone to settle down with, Mom."

The wrong thing to say, apparently. "And why not, may I ask? I don't understand how you can stand to spend time with women like that..._Muffy_ or whatever her name was."

"Buffy was an up-and-coming actress, I gave her a little limelight to help her career out."

His mother rolled her eyes. "Right. How philanthropic of you."

Oliver grinned. "Look, Mom, we both know this subject is just getting you worked up. I'm sorry I didn't make plans to take someone, but this late in the game, there's no way I could get someone you'd approve of. It would just be a repeat Buffy."

"What kind of a name is Buffy, anyway? It sounds like a poodle," his mother muttered with disdain.

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "Why don't I order you some tea, Mom?"

She pursed her lips, trying not to smile, and he took that to mean yes to tea, and yes to the conversation being over.

_Thank God_.

It wasn't that Oliver didn't want what his parents had on some level. He just didn't think it was in the works for him. There was no woman out there who could possibly understand the double life he lead. There were so many reasons it just wouldn't work out.

At the moment he certainly wasn't complaining, anyway. Even if he weren't the Green Arrow, he wouldn't be ready to settle down yet.

* * *

Chloe bit her lip, holding up first one dress and then the other, staring at herself in the mirror.

"I think you should pick the purple one, Miss Sullivan," Jeremy said behind her. "I like that one best."

"Funny, I was just going to recommend she choose the green," came a deeper male voice, startling both Chloe and Jeremy. Chloe glanced behind her in the mirror then turned to see Oliver Queen, smirking as he leaned against the wall.

Chloe lifted an eyebrow, staring him in the eye. "Purple it is," she said, handing the chosen dress to Jeremy.

Oliver looked deeply amused. "We meet again," he said, walking over to shake her hand. "I never _did_ get your name."

She accepted his hand, but only smiled mischievously. "No, you didn't."

"_May_ I get your name?"

Chloe put on a pretense of thinking it over. "Nope," she said, smirking at him.

"Why not?"

"Because you clearly don't need to be encouraged," she told him teasingly, moving past him to hang the green dress back up. Jeremy was watching the exchange between them with deep interest.

"Fine," Oliver said with mock indignation. He turned to Jeremy and shook the young man's hand. "I'm Oliver Queen. And you are?"

"J-Jeremy Cooper," Jeremy sputtered nervously, shaking Oliver's hand in return.

Oliver glanced up at Chloe, a twinkle of mirth in his dark brown eyes. "See how easy that was?"

Chloe just continued to smirk at him.

"So, who are you, Jeremy? Her younger brother?"

"I...umm..." Jeremy was looking nervously past Oliver's shoulder where Chloe was silently shaking her head and motioning for him not to say anything. "We work together...?"

Chloe dropped her arms in defeat.

"Oh?" Oliver said. "Where do you work?"

Her frantic motions started up again. "S-somewhere?" Jeremy stammered eyes darting nervously back and forth between them.

Oliver chuckled. "Fine, don't tell me."

"What are you doing in the women's department anyway?" Chloe demanded, distracting him in an effort to save Jeremy.

The corner of Oliver's lips twitched. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Are you a cross dresser? Look, it's okay. There's room for all kinds of people in this world. I won't judge you."

Oliver quirked an amused eyebrow at her. "I think you already have judged me, no offense."

Chloe looked somewhat abashed, but before she could respond. Another woman spoke behind her. "Oliver, darling. I think I'm ready to go."

Chloe and Jeremy looked around to see an older woman, to be specific, Laura Queen, carrying a couple of bags in her arms. Oliver immediately stepped forward to take them from her. Oliver had been right. Chloe wouldn't have believed he was helping his mother shop. She looked at Chloe and Jeremy.

"Who are your friends?" she asked, eyeing Chloe with no small curiosity.

Oliver's grin could not have been more pronounced as Chloe was forced to introduce herself.

"I'm Chloe Sullivan," she shook the woman's hand politely. "And this is Jeremy Cooper."

"Miss Sullivan," Mrs. Queen repeated with recognition. "I believe you wrote the article last month on the Pentagon contract, didn't you? Robert was quite impressed with you," she shot her son a significant glance.

Chloe's cheeks tinged pink. "Thank you very much."

"How did you meet my son?"

"Just briefly outside of Mr. Queen's office. This was entirely a chance meeting," Chloe indicated their current situation, feeling like a bit of an idiot.

"Interesting. So you work for the Gazette?"

"Yes," Chloe said, well aware of the triumphant expression on Oliver's face.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Well, don't let me interrupt anything. I actually thought I'd take a look at-"

"Oh no," Chloe said hurriedly, seizing Jeremy's arm a little too roughly, "We were just leaving. Pleasure to have met you," she said, shaking Mrs. Queen's hand a second time.

"And you, dear," she smiled disappointedly.

"Goodbye, Miss Sullivan!" Oliver called after her and Jeremy mockingly.

Chloe rolled her eyes. _Ugh_.

Jeremy was looking at her amusedly. "He likes you."

"Um, Jeremy, honey? Have you met the man? He likes all women."

Jeremy laughed.

"Some date you are," Chloe teased. "Letting other men waltz up and start hitting on me like that."

Jeremy shrugged. "I'm just here to carry your bags. _Tomorrow_ I'm your date."

Chloe teasingly swatted the back of his head.


	6. Ch 5: Eating, Drinking, and Making Merry

**Author's Comment: Someone asked me about what actors I pictured playing Oliver's parents, and I have to admit, I don't have an answer. (I'm an actress, not a casting director. lol) But I realized the question was probably asked because I never gave many physical details on Ollie's parents in the story, so maybe people were having trouble picturing them. So, at risk of it being awkward this late in the story, I threw in a little more physical description in the following chapter. As for who I'd cast, I'll get back to you!**

**Much Love and Thanks for Reviewing!**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 5:**

**Eating, Drinking, and Making Merry**

"Explain to me again why you're not here with someone," Bruce said amusedly, watching his own date flirt with a B-rated movie star at the other end of the room.

"Didn't want to upset Mother," Oliver joked ruefully. "Explain to me what you're doing in Star City?"

Bruce shrugged, sipping his drink. "It's for a good cause. I received an invitation. And here I thought you'd be so thrilled to see me. I'm hurt." He raised an eyebrow at Oliver that suggested the opposite.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "How are things in Gotham, anyway? I hear you've been having some trouble with the police."

Bruce grimaced. "You wouldn't believe it. You'd think they'd be a bit more grateful considering I'm doing their jobs for them."

Oliver laughed. "Ain't it always the way?"

Bruce shook his head. "You're just lucky mummy and daddy haven't figured out that you're going out after curfew."

Oliver knew to step carefully around that remark. Bruce might be giving a lighthearted jab at the moment, but Oliver knew exactly how Bruce felt about parents. He was actually quite fond of Robert and Laura, who had in many ways been there for him growing up. He was spared replying when Bruce laughed.

"Okay, that's got to be the cutest thing I've ever seen." Oliver followed the direction of Bruce's gaze and spotted the blonde reporter from the Gazette, who looked positively stunning in the plum-colored silk dress she was wearing, dancing with her red-headed companion from the other day. The young man was clearly having trouble, and was visibly counting out the beats of the music as he stared down at their feet. Oliver grinned, watching them. Chloe seemed undeterred by her partner's inabilities. She was grinning, amused, and helping him out, leading him more than anything. "Later," Bruce said, and Oliver was hit in the chest by Bruce's drink as he handed it off. Oliver rolled his eyes as Bruce went over to the pair dancing.

"Mind if I cut in?" Bruce offered gallantly. Chloe looked up, startled. Jeremy looked relieved and disappointed at the same time.

"No problem," Jeremy said, lingering just long enough to get a photograph of Bruce Wayne offering Chloe his hand before taking off.

Chloe watched him go ruefully, shaking her head at him. "I just hope he took the lens cap off." she joked.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I was just about to ask if I should call child services on you or not, but I take it by the camera that you're from a paper?"

"The Gazette," Chloe smiled.

Bruce nodded. "Good for you. I'm Bruce, by the way."

"Chloe Sullivan," she smiled, noting what a good dancer he was. It was a relief to have someone else take the lead after her attempt to make Jeremy dance with her. He'd insisted that he didn't know how, and Chloe had insisted right back that she would teach him. Still, all in all, it was more fun to dance with someone who knew what he was doing, she thought as Bruce spun her gracefully outward before drawing her back into him. Chloe flushed slightly. He was very handsome, with dark hair and dark brown eyes that spoke of deep inner workings. She'd seen those kind of eyes before.

Bruce might not know it, but Chloe had long ago put together his life as Batman. It hadn't been difficult, not for her. She'd read all the articles in the Gotham Post about Batman and put together the patterns, not fooled by the alibi stories occasionally rendered to throw people off the trail.

She was again beginning to wonder why yet another masked hero had somehow found her even miles from his home city when Bruce spoke, "You look very lost in thought."

She laughed. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking that I'm probably missing an invaluable opportunity to interview you. I have trouble turning my reporter brain off."

He grinned. "Well, I'll give you three questions. How's that? You are here on business, I suppose."

Chloe looked ecstatic. "That's marvelous. Let me see...How do you respond to the allegations that Wayne Enterprises is bowing under the weight of the poor economy?"

"I'd say that every business is going to take some hits with the current state of things, but that overall the company is taking things in stride, and I expect us to come out of this on top."

"What about the rumors that there will be a mass lay off in the near future?"

"Not to my knowledge. We're doing our best to create more jobs where possible."

Chloe was about to ask another business question but she couldn't resist something entirely different. "What's your personal opinion on the activities of a certain masked vigilante known as Batman?"

She was impressed to see that he maintained a poker face. "I'd say that he should let the police handle police work."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, smirking. "And to those who think that the police in Gotham _aren't_ doing their job, which is exactly why there's a need for Batman?"

Bruce grinned in response, but shook his head. "'fraid not, Miss Sullivan. You've used up your three."

The song came to an end just as he was saying this, and Chloe feigned more disappointment at not getting an answer than she felt.

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered, guiding her toward the refreshments.

Chloe smirked. "Don't you have a date somewhere, Mr. Wayne?"

"Bruce," he corrected. "And yes, but I think she's currently engaged," he glanced in that direction to make sure he was right. He was.

Chloe smiled amusedly. "Well then, lead me on, Bruce."

Though she really should have, she wasn't expecting him to lead her over to Oliver Queen, who irritably handed Bruce his drink back.

"Next time I'm spiking it with something," he warned. He turned to Chloe and grinned. "Miss Sullivan. Always a pleasure to see you."

"You two know each other?" Bruce questioned, offering Chloe a glass of champagne.

"We've met," Chloe grinned, eyes dancing. Oliver was a bit distracted. He'd been watching her dance with Bruce, and couldn't help but notice she was far prettier than he'd remembered. The couple of times they'd met previously, she'd been all business. It was amazing the difference it made to see her so dressed up, letting her hair down-so to speak.

"Have you?" Bruce asked humorously, glancing at Oliver in surprise. "Well, anyway, I'm thinking it's only fair that since you got to ask me three questions, that I get to interrogate you."

Chloe raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "All right."

But just as Bruce was opening his mouth, he was distracted by the sound of his phone. He flipped it open, and his face became slightly grim as he read the message. "I'm terribly sorry, something's come up, and I've got to go."

Bruce Wayne was lucky that he was one of few men from whom Chloe would accept such a vague excuse from. "That's all right. I don't mind. What about your date?"

"I'll take care of it," muttered Oliver, hoping Chloe wouldn't hear.

Bruce shrugged. "I doubt she'll notice I'm gone until she goes looking for a ride. Oliver," he nodded to his friend. "Miss Sullivan," he grinned, kissing her hand farewell and causing Chloe to blush. "It was an absolute pleasure. I hope to see you again."

"It's Chloe," she said politely.

He smiled and was gone. Oliver, anxious to distract Chloe from the reason for Bruce's sudden departure, seized conversation. "So _he_ gets to call you by your first name? I'm hurt."

Chloe grinned at him. "I never said you couldn't call me Chloe. You just assumed."

Oliver looked genuinely surprised by the response. "I'm flattered. So, how's the research going? I assume that's why you're here with the kid?"

Chloe grinned, scanning the room for her so-called date. "Of course. Jeremy is the best photographer the Gazette has. We just don't tell him for fear it will go to his head," she laughed, and Oliver wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "I figured I'd scoop him up for this, give him a little extra experience."

"And in the meantime, you didn't have to find a date," he finished shrewdly.

Chloe glanced at him, a knowing smile on her face. "Am I that obvious? Still, I'm relatively new in town," she rattled off her excuse. "Don't know that many people yet."

"Well you've been here for at least a month, haven't you? Sounds like sufficient time to me," he prodded.

Her brow rose tauntingly. "You're one to talk. Where's your escort for this evening?"

"I didn't bring one. I was hoping I'd run into you," he teased easily.

"I'm blushing, Mr. Queen."

"Oliver."

"Sure."

He eyed her in amusement. She was something else. "Can I ask you to dance?"

"Ask away."

He grinned. She was really making him work for it. "Would you care to dance with me, Chloe?" he said, sweeping into a melodramatic bow.

She giggled. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Queen."

"What do I have to do to get you to call me Oliver?" he asked, pulling her onto the dance floor.

Allowing him to pull her into his arms, she smiled easily. "Convince me that you _aren't_ hitting on me?" she suggested.

"Now that is entirely unfair."

"How so?"

"You're far too attractive for me not to hit on you."

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"You don't believe me," he noted, mildly surprised.

She shook her head.

"Great. You're one of those women who doesn't even know how beautiful she is. That just makes you even more attractive."

Chloe scoffed, but he noticed that she blushed regardless.

"And shy," he continued. "You're not making this easy on me."

She laughed.

"All right," he conceded. "No more flirting. Strictly friendly advances from here on out. You mentioned you're new in town. What brought you to Star City?"

"Job search. I used to work at the Daily Planet."

Oliver nearly choked.

"What's wrong?" she frowned.

"Sorry, nothing," he shook himself. Hadn't Hal Jordan mentioned he had suspicions that someone at the Daily Planet might be the Traveler? What if Chloe knew him? Even knew who he was? "The Planet, huh? That's a pretty prestigious newspaper. What made you leave?"

"I clashed horns with Lex Luthor, so he bought it and fired me." Chloe was proud of her ability to tell the story without sounding bitter any more.

Oliver, on the other hand, was getting more intrigued by the minute. She was involved with a Luthor? But how much? "Do you know Lex personally? Or was it strictly professional loathing?"

Chloe laughed. "Well, actually, to most people's surprise, I do know him personally. I grew up in Smallville, where Lex used to live. He used to be good friends with my best friend Clark, who saved his life once upon a time."

"How did he do that?"

"Lex nearly hit him with a car, but drove off a bridge instead. Clark dove in after him, pulled him out of the car."

"Your friend sounds like a real hero."

Chloe's smile became strangely elusive, as though she knew more than she was telling. "That's certainly one way to describe him."

"He still a friend of yours or is this all ancient history?"

"Oh, Clark and I are very close. He actually started working at the Daily Planet shortly after I left. Claims I inspired him to be a journalist since we used to work on the paper together in high school," she smiled at the thought.

Oliver's mind was moving a thousand miles a minute by the time the song ended. They parted, but he wasn't ready to let her get away, yet. Unfortunately, he was expected to introduce his father for a brief speech.

"I have to take care of something," he said regretfully. "Save me a dance for later?" he added hopefully.

Chloe smiled. "Maybe," she evaded.

It would have to do. He left her, and Chloe went to seek out Jeremy, who was getting in position to snap a photo of Oliver and his father side by side.

"Do you still have my tape recorder?" she asked him. He nodded, not moving his camera out of place as his hand dove in his pocket to retrieve the device. He handed it over. "Thanks," she said, tousling his hair affectionately.

"No problem, Miss Sullivan," he said absently while Chloe clicked the recorder on.

* * *

Later in the evening, Chloe was seriously considering going home. She was exhausted. Unfortunately, when Jeremy had been interrogating her about Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen, she'd let slip that Oliver had asked to dance with her again, and now Jeremy was insisting they stick around as long as possible, attempting to make sure Oliver got the opportunity.

_Interfering little twit_, she thought affectionately.

"Miss Sullivan. Lovely to see you again, dear," said a pleasant voice, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up to see Laura Queen alongside her husband looking at Chloe approvingly. Laura Queen was such an elegant woman, it struck Chloe. Dressed in an extremely tasteful smoky blue taffeta ball gown, with her graying blonde hair drawn up in a simple chignon, she looked positively regal. She seemed to be one of those women in the world who aged impossibly gracefully. Every movement she made was measured and fluid, with her shoulders back and her head held up. But apart from that, Chloe was inexplicably drawn to her. She was the kind of woman you wanted to confide in, not unlike Martha Kent in that way. She had a warm smile and laugh lines around her grey eyes, which hinted of secrets untold. She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend.

And Robert Queen was very much her equal. Tall like his son, the family resemblance was more than evident. He shared his son's smile and brown eyes, not to mention the square shoulders and commanding presence. He was a man to be reckoned with. His once dark brown hair had evidently begun to gray heavily, though it only served to make him look more distinguished. She had been infinitely impressed by Mr. Queen when she interviewed him. He somehow achieved a perfect balance between man of business and man of the world. In short, he was the sort of man you came to and trusted when you were in trouble, no matter what kind.

"Mr. Queen. Mrs. Queen," Chloe greeted politely. "The gala has been lovely," she complimented.

"Oh, thank you, dear. I thought it turned out rather nicely, as well," Laura said fondly.

Chloe smiled.

"I read the article, Miss Sullivan," Robert interrupted them. "Enjoyed it thoroughly. You're a talented writer."

"Thank you very much," Chloe said appreciatively.

"Gazette's lucky to have you," he praised, and Chloe blushed.

"You haven't seen my son this evening, have you?" Laura asked hopefully.

Chloe was about to respond when the man himself showed up. "He was just going to ask his mother to dance," Oliver said, detangling his mother from his father. He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Chloe, indicating that he hadn't forgotten her.

"Oh, nonsense. What do you want with me?" Laura said, glancing fervently at Chloe.

"A dance," Oliver said simply, pulling her away in good humor.

"All right, can't have that," Robert said to Chloe. "They're both always scolding me for not dancing at these things, but what am I supposed to do when he steals my partner?" he asked her. "Shall we?" he offered her his arm conspiratorially.

Knowing she'd be a fool to decline, Chloe gladly accepted.

Robert Queen was an exceptional dance partner, Chloe thought, and if he didn't do it often, it certainly wasn't for lack of ability.

Halfway through the dance, however, he managed to maneuver them over toward Oliver and Laura, where husband and wife exchanged significant glances before successfully switching partners without missing a beat.

Chloe watched them amusedly as Oliver took over leading her. "They're very much in love with each other, aren't they?"

"Hmm?" Oliver asked, not having been listening.

"I said they really care about each other don't th-" her words died off as she turned to look at him and was caught off guard by the deep, searching look in his eyes.

"Sorry," he said, lightening the mood automatically. "Yeah, they do," he glanced at his parents appreciatively. "Always have."

"You're lucky," she said thoughtfully, "to have them, I mean."

"I take it you were less fortunate?"

She bit her lip as though regretting having mentioned anything but forced herself to answer. "My mother took off when I was pretty young. My dad did his best, but we were never all that close."

He nodded understandingly, then sought a change of subject to make her more comfortable. "What happened to our young photographer friend?" he glanced around the room.

"Oh, I suspect he's off somewhere trying looking for food. He was determined to make me wait around to dance with you again," she joked.

Oliver's eyebrow shot up. "I'll have to remember to thank him."

"He accepts payment in the form of autographed baseballs and free food."

Oliver laughed. "I see. What about you?"

"Oh, he accepts my love and affection on a daily basis in recompense."

He chuckled. "I meant what kind of reimbursement do you accept?"

She blushed. "Oh. I don't know. A good dance partner?" she tossed offhandedly.

"That's it?"

She thought for a moment then grinned. "That and coffee. I live on the stuff."

"So," he said carefully, "it might be possible to conveniently run into you at a coffee shop sometime in the near future? By total coincidence and strictly as friends of course," he added, seeing the uncertain look on her face.

At the word 'friends' she looked placated, however, and nodded. "It would be a believable incident."

**Author's Comment: Just so I don't disappoint anyone: Don't get attached to the coffee 'date.'**

**B.S.S.**


	7. Ch 6: Proclamations and Propositions

**Chapter 6:**

**Proclamations and Propositions**

_A World in Need of Heroes_

_by Chloe A. Sullivan_

_In the last couple of years, a strange trend has taken over the country. A series of vigilantes, ranging from fools in ski masks to awe-inspiring men with superhuman powers, have stepped out of the shadows in an effort to reduce crime in America._

_In Gotham, a dark, mysterious man has saved the entire city numerous times from homicidal maniacs with such names as the Joker, Two-Face, and the Riddler. In Metropolis, a man who can move faster than speeding bullets_-_among other things_-_has saved too many lives to count, yet never slows down enough for a thank you. Across the country, people have reported being rescued by a range of so-called heroes, from the Green Lantern to Wonder Woman._

_Neither is Star City behind the times. We, too, have our very own hometown hero, known as the Green Arrow, a man recognizable by his Robin Hood-inspired costume and activities._

_The new fashion of wearing masks and stopping crime has had a variety of results. Unfortunately, it draws out many imitators, who often get themselves into more trouble than they prevent. Happily, it has also brought the rate of crime in the United States down 30% in the past year alone. Some people view the development positively, others question it or even condemn it._

_A member of the Metropolis Police Department, Mark Finley, commented, "I appreciate the idea. Everyone wants to be a hero, and I think in general, these guys have their hearts in the right place. Still, that doesn't change the fact that taking the law into your own hands is illegal."_

_Finley also expressed concern that many of these heroes wield too much power for their own good. "It's a fine line that they're walking and what concerns me is that some of them, The Blur, for instance, clearly have enough power that they could easily believe themselves to be above the law. Cops, not capes," he summed it up._

_In Officer Finley's opinion, it's only a matter of time before things get out of hand. And yet, a member of the Gotham Police Department, who wished to remain anonymous, said on the contrary that, "Sometimes I think we need all the help we can get. Batman has saved our asses more times than I can count, and while I agree that there's a balance to be maintained, I don't think he's taking justice into his own hands any more than a man leaving the police an anonymous tip. Heroes like Batman _capture_ criminals and hand them over. They don't punish them."_

_Many civilians seem to be as split as the police. While hate sites have popped up on the internet such as "Where Was the Blur?"_-_a web page devoted to those who blame heroes for not being there when they were needed_-_ten times as many fan pages devoted to favorite heroes span the internet._

"_They're role-models," said Carrie Luellen, a woman who was rescued by the Blur last month, when her car stalled on a set of train tracks. "My son traipses around in a mask and cape and claims he's going to be the Blur when he grows up. I have a nephew who runs around with a toy bow and arrow like the Green Arrow. Personally, I'm forever indebted. The Blur saved my life, and I wouldn't be talking to you now if he hadn't. I see where the police are coming from, but it's hardly a crime to rescue someone from danger."_

_So the question is whether or not we allow the trend to continue. Is this development for the best? Or does it allow men to exist above the law? The answer: It will be a happy day indeed when America no longer needs heroes like Batman, the Blur, and the Green Arrow; but today, here and now, we do. Luellen and those like her are proof of that. Perhaps some day law enforcement will rise to the challenge and make superheroes obsolete, a day I suspect the Green Arrow and those like him will be glad to see. Until then, however, we must do our best as citizens to put a stop to crime and to be there for each other, and we owe those who go beyond that our gratitude and love._

Oliver put the paper down, grinning at the woman across from him. She was fiddling nervously with a straw wrapper.

It had been several months since he'd danced with Chloe at the charity ball. Shortly afterward, he had met her for coffee, and although his original intention had been to find out if she didn't know who "the Blur" was, he'd quickly lost track of his ulterior motive and the two had become instant friends. Coffee once a week had become a must, and they frequently caught meals together among other things.

"Well," Chloe said impatiently. "What do you think?"

"I think you should start working on your Pulitzer acceptance speech," he told her, admiration in his voice.

"You liked it, then?" she asked anxiously, looking at the front page article. "I wasn't sure what to think. That article is the first thing I've written for the Gazette that George had nothing to say over. I swear he'd lost his tongue. I didn't know what it meant."

"He ran it on the front page," Oliver pointed out, glancing at the giant title stamped across the front of the paper.

She shrugged. "That could have meant a slow news day."

"Chloe, the article is phenomenal. What gave you the idea?"

She avoided eye contact and Oliver suppressed a smirk. He had a feeling he knew. Chloe had had her first run-in with the Green Arrow about a week prior.

Finally, biting her lip-something she always did when she was choosing her words carefully-she said, "Last Tuesday a mugger snuck up behind me on my way home. Normally I can handle that stuff, and I would have been fine, but the Green Arrow sort of saved me the trouble. Shot an arrow straight through the guy's hand. It was unbelievable," she shook her head, recalling the incident. "Didn't even stick around for a thank you," she added.

Oliver had to hide his grin. He gave her a concerned look instead. "You were almost mugged? Jeez, Chloe, you should have told me. I still don't like you walking home from the Gazette every night. It's not safe."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I'm fine."

"You should let me give you a ride."

"Everyday?" she laughed. "Talk about a waste of gasoline."

"I'll have you know I drive a hybrid."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I _own_ one at least," he chuckled. "Well anyway," he went on, "this article is one impressive piece of prose. You should be really proud of it."

She beamed. "Thanks, Ollie."

"So just out of curiosity, is this your real opinion or is this just the logical conclusion for the article?"

He noticed her cheeks tinging pink. "Definitely my actual opinion."

Oliver was starting to wonder how many women there could be in the world like Chloe Sullivan. It couldn't be many, that was certain. He was lucky to have her friendship.

And so was the Traveller. Though he hadn't been able to get her to talk much about the Blur, he'd put a few pieces together and come to the conclusion that she knew more than she let on. Besides that, he had some distinct suspicions about her alleged best friend, Clark Kent. All signs pointed to the fact that he had to be the Blur and that the Blur had to be the Traveler. Chloe carefully covered for him, and a lesser man would never have figured it out, but Oliver was almost positive he was right.

Which brought forth an entirely separate onslaught of questions. Did Lionel Luthor know who it was? Considering his son's strange history with Clark Kent, it was certain that they'd at least been thrown into each other's paths. What about Oliver's parents? Had they, too, put the pieces together? Since the death of Patricia Swann, Oliver's parents had spent more and more time in Metropolis, and until Oliver's fateful visit from Hal Jordan, it had never occurred to him why. Now it was beginning to make sense.

"What are you thinking about?" Chloe interrupted his thoughts.

"Nothing," he dismissed.

"So have you talked to Bruce recently?" Chloe asked casually. Since becoming friends with Oliver, Chloe had met Bruce on a handful of occasions, and Bruce flirted heavily every time without fail. Chloe liked to ask Oliver about him because she knew it ruffled his feathers. Oliver didn't exactly approve the match.

"Nope, don't think so," Oliver said in a tone that implied that even if he had, he wouldn't tell her.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Aw, darn. I miss him. I like that man," she sighed, purposefully provoking him.

"Can't imagine why."

"I don't know. He's chivalrous, gentlemanly, handsome, rich," she ticked the items off on her fingers, "and he never fails to tell me how stunning I look."

"All qualities that could be attributed to me," Oliver pointed out.

She laughed. "Maybe I just prefer brunettes," she teased.

"So what are you doing this weekend?" he asked. "I need a date."

Chloe quirked a brow, tilting her head. _"Again?"_ she mocked.

He shrugged. "What can I say? My mother gets practically giddy when I take you places. I think she's started planning our wedding."

Chloe laughed. "Well as sorry as I always am to disappoint Laura Queen, I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Why not?"

"I'll be gone all weekend."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"Back to Metropolis. I'm overdue for a visit to my cousin, and I'm dying to see Clark."

Oliver looked absolutely delighted.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The function is in Metropolis."

"You wanted to take me out of town?" Chloe asked, startled.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I thought you'd enjoy a weekend retreat, and apparently I was right. Think you can combine my plans with yours?"

Chloe thought carefully. She and Lois had no definite plans, so it was quite possible that her cousin wouldn't mind if Chloe split her time between Lois and Oliver. And of course Clark would find time for her regardless. Why not? "Sure, I think so."

"Great. My jet leaves Friday at 6:00."

"What?"

"Well you get off work at 5, so-"

"No, I meant, we're taking a private jet?" She'd been planning on having Clark pick her up, and even now it hadn't occurred to her that Oliver expected her to travel _with_ him.

He laughed at her face. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but I'm rich," he informed her.

Chloe scoffed at his arrogance. "Sorry, no, I just...I guess I was prepping myself for a long, painful car ride. This is so much better."


	8. Ch 7: Far Away Kingdoms Part I

**Chapter 7:**

**Far Away Kingdoms Part I**

Okay, she could admit it, traveling with Oliver was a dream. A magnificent, wonderful dream. She always appreciated the instant, easy gratification of letting Clark carry her somewhere, but she couldn't say she enjoyed. It always left her stomach a bit unsettled.

Yes, she thought easily, flying was the only way to travel. She set her cocktail down and reclined luxuriously in her chair.

Oliver was watching her in amusement. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?" he asked.

She nodded wordlessly, eyes still closed.

He chuckled. "So are you sure you packed everything?" he asked. He had never met a girl who traveled so light.

She nodded again. "It's only three days," she reminded.

"Yeah, but there's the luncheon, the dinner, the gala, not to mention whatever you're doing with your cousin..."

Chloe waved her hand in dismissal. "Two nice outfits, one formal dress, three blouses, one pair of jeans, and three sets of underwear. No big deal."

He laughed. "What about shoes, makeup, hair junk-"

"I've got it covered. And what I don't have, I can borrow from Lois." She opened an eye to look at him. "You're trying to find an excuse to buy me something aren't you?"

He smirked. "Maybe. If I thought you'd let me."

"Save it for your usual arm candy. I'm a cheap date."

"You say that like you're not arm candy."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow and chose not to reply.

"So I called your cousin."

Chloe coughed. "Beg pardon?"

"She's..." he searched for a delicate word, humor glinting in his eyes, _"interesting."_

She scoffed. "Why on earth did you call her?"

He shrugged. "I felt guilty about stealing you for so much time on your weekend home, I wanted to make sure she was fine with it."

"I have never yet come across quite this combination of idiocy and thoughtfulness in the same person."

He laughed. "I fail to see what was idiotic about it."

"You don't know my cousin. And-" she shifted uncomfortably, "-she _didn't_ know about you."

Oliver looked at her in surprise. "What?"

Chloe heaved a dramatic sigh. "I hadn't exactly mentioned you to her before this."

"Why not?" Oliver was smirking at her, anticipating a convoluted, hair-brained idea that would be good for a laugh. He wasn't disappointed.

"Because she's Lois! If she knew I was friends with Oliver Queen she'd be begging me every five minutes to let her interview you-"

"She's a reporter, too?"

"-and I'd never hear the end of it. Never mind that I'm a reporter, too. Besides that, she's going to spend the next five years resenting the fact that I wasn't the one to tell her about you, and the next _ten_ making less-than-subtle jokes and sexual innuendoes about us because in Lois Lane's world it's impossible for a man and woman to be friends and not be in love with each other." She paused for air. "And now I'm going to have to deal with her and it's all your fault!" she exclaimed, throwing a cocktail napkin at him. Unfortunately, it being a napkin and all, the item didn't make it far, but floated gently to the floor between them. She eyed it with contempt.

Oliver, meanwhile, was doing his best not to laugh _too_ much. "Well, I didn't actually tell her who I was, so maybe you can escape the portion of your fate that involves being bugged for interviews."

Chloe glared at him.

"I'm sorry," he raised his hands in surrender. "I thought I was being considerate."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You did not. You were just curious because I talk about her all the time."

The corners of his mouth twitched in betrayal. Chloe rolled her eyes.

* * *

"I'm sorry, run that by me one more time," Lois insisted, leaning back in her seat, brow arched so high it seemed to have disappeared into her hairline.

Exasperated, Chloe said for what she hoped against reason would be the final time, "Oliver and I are just friends."

"So what you're saying is you're not romantically involved. And neither of you has the hots for the other?"

"Exactly," Chloe sighed, thinking they had finally gotten somewhere and might actually be able to _have_ their movie night now.

Then Lois laughed hysterically. "Right. That's rich." She mocked sudden revelation, "Oh my gosh, _so is he!_"

Chloe dropped her face to her hands. Clearly, this was going nowhere fast. "I call stalemate," she said through her fingers.

"And I call dibs," Lois responded cheekily.

"UGH!" Chloe looked to the Heavens for help. "Look, Lo, accept that we're not into each other that way, and please, let's watch the movie."

"Fine."

"_Thank you!_ So," she said, calming down now that they were past the frustrating part of the conversation, "What movie do you want to watch?"

"Hmm...how about _My Best Friend's Wedding_? Or maybe _Just Friends_? Wait, no, I've got it! _When Harry Met Sally_!"

"I give up."

* * *

"So you're _sure_ it would be inappropriate to sneak in the kitchen and find some _real_ booze?" Chloe muttered under her breath.

Oliver covered a laugh by coughing, elbowing her under the table. One of the events Oliver had to attend that weekend was a business luncheon, which was exactly as pretentious and boring as it had sounded when Oliver had originally described it.

Oliver and Chloe were carefully hiding from each other that they each knew Oliver's father had sent him on this trip in an effort to give him more responsibilities just as he'd explained to Chloe in the interview. Strangely enough, they both just assumed the other one was unaware of this situation, meaning they both enjoyed the smug amusement of thinking they knew something the other one didn't.

"It's almost over. Surely you can hold out?" Oliver whispered back, winking at her.

Chloe nodded grimly, eyes narrowing skeptically as an older man droned on and on.

And on.

"Quit fidgeting," he teased, passing her a glass of water. She glared at him in response. "What?" he asked innocently, knowing he was poking the proverbial bear.

"You owe me so much for this one."

He suppressed a grin, and nodded imperceptibly to her as he responded to what the older man had been saying. Chloe was secretly surprised and impressed that Oliver had even been paying attention to the rambling.

She raised an approving eyebrow but said nothing. Oliver didn't notice.

When the affair was over, Chloe couldn't contain her glee. "Ugh!" she groaned, stretching her arms out in relief. Oliver watched her with an amused smile.

"You don't mean to say you were bored, do you?" he provoked.

"Okay, I am perfectly capable of behaving like a lady, but I have never wanted to stand up on a table and start throwing dishes around that badly."

Oliver laughed at the image. "_You? _ A lady?" he mocked. "Don't make me laugh."

She whirled on him. "Just for that," she poked his chest, "you owe me lunch."

He looked surprised at the demand. "We just _came_ from lunch."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "That was a nap, not lunch. Besides, I've never seen that much finger food in one sitting. I want _real_ food."

Which was how they found themselves sitting in a diner, eating french fries and burgers in their business clothes.

"So tell me," Chloe said between fries, "that this dinner tonight is not going to be as boring as the lunch was."

"I doubt it. I really like Garner and his wife. They're good people."

"And for what purpose are we meeting the good doctor and his beloved spouse?" Chloe asked, absently waving a french fry in her hand as she spoke.

Oliver smirked.

"What?"

"You're going to write an article on it, aren't you?

"Maybe," she said ambiguously, eyes sparkling.

He shook his head. "God help me for becoming your enabler."


	9. Ch 8: Far Away Kingdoms Part II

**Chapter 8:**

**Far Away Kingdoms Part II: A Gown Fit for a Queen**

"What _are_ you wearing?" Lois asked disapprovingly.

"Um, _clothes_," Chloe rolled her eyes, buttoning her blouse as she looked in the mirror.

"Okay, I was silent when you left for the lunch thing-"

Chloe snorted. Lois had begged her all the way out the door to change.

"-well, I said _almost_ nothing," she dismissed. "That's not the point. You are going to dinner in a classy restaurant with a billionaire and the future surgeon general-"

"He's _hardly_-"

"Willing to admit that that's his career plan but we both know it is; we're reporters," Lois cut her off, trudging right ahead. "Now, I absolutely refuse to let you go to this dinner looking like that!"

Chloe looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a capped-sleeved, cream silk, button down blouse with a black pencil skirt and pumps. In her opinion, she looked perfectly fine. "What's wrong with this outfit?" Chloe asked finally, exasperated and knowing she'd end up feeling insecure the entire night if she didn't give up.

"Besides the fact that you look like his secretary? Everything. Tell me, please, oh, please, _tell me_ that you packed a cocktail dress."

Chloe bit her lip. "You think it will be that formal?" When Oliver had told her 'dinner' a few days ago, he hadn't mentioned where the dinner would be. "I'm going to murder him."

"Not before I do," Lois muttered. "Okay. This is an emergency. How much time do you have?"

Chloe checked her watch. She'd gotten ready early so that she could do a draft of an article and work on it until Oliver came to pick her up. "An hour and a half."

Lois groaned. "Well, thank God your hair and makeup is okay. There's a Macy's down the street. We'll call a cab. Plus I have a friend who works there part time who owes me a favor. I'll call her and get her to start pulling things in your size."

Chloe bit her lip, eyeing herself anxiously in the mirror, and Lois raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"Oh fine, let's go," Chloe blurted, grabbing her purse.

"_Thank God!"_

Chloe smirked as Lois dragged her out the door. "Do I want to know why the woman at Macy's owes you a favor?"

"Nope."

* * *

Oliver tapped his pen thoughtfully, scrolling the screen of the computer down. After scanning down a list of all the members of the Metropolis police department, he had started on the list of Daily Planet employees.

He kept going back to Clark Kent's name. He didn't have any real proof that Kent might be the traveller, but he couldn't shake the gut feeling that he might actually be the guy. All the stories Chloe had told him...the fact that the mysterious rescues in the Metropolis area had begun shortly after his arrival there.

He went all the way back to Kent's history in Smallville, and he was shocked by the number of times Kent had ended up on police radar, happened to be at crime scenes, and, more importantly, saved lives.

Of course, there was the matter of his parents...

Oliver glanced at the clock and mentally cursed himself. He was running late.

When he got to Chloe's cousin's apartment, he was expecting Chloe to answer the door for him, instead he got Lois.

"Lois," he greeted smugly.

"Queen," she returned, a hint of disapproval in her tone.

"How are you?"

"Worried about my cousin."

"Oh?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. She's been spending all her free time with a strange man she claims she's not dating."

Oliver sighed, noting with impatience that she was still standing in the doorway, blocking his entrance. "Where's Chloe?" he asked, noting that they were already running late.

Lois opened her mouth to respond, no doubt sarcastically, but Chloe's voice prevented her.

"Sorry!" she said, clearly flustered. "You wouldn't believe the time I've had this evening." She shot Lois a significant look, but Lois was too busy smirking to return it.

Oliver's tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth. Once again he was being forcibly reminded that his best friend was, in fact, female. It was relatively easy to ignore on a daily basis, since neither of them had really thought of each other that way-although he suspected she had _never_ thought of him that way-since the charity ball.

However, at moments like this, it was impossible to think about anything else.

Chloe looked...he struggled in vain to think of a word that was mildly appropriate to describe someone who was only a friend to him. She looked...

_Damn sexy_, he briefly allowed himself before pushing away the thought.

Clad in a midnight blue halter dress, every curve of her body was thrown into sharp relief. Her back was totally exposed. Her legs were mouthwatering beneath the flowing, half length skirt, not to mention defined by a pair of heels that had to be illegal in most states.

_Wow_.

"Ollie?" Chloe asked, eyebrows up.

His head snapped back to her face. "Sorry. What?" he asked, throat tight.

"Shouldn't we get going?" she repeated.

"What?" He blinked. "Oh, right, yeah!" He shook himself. Reality. Right. They were late.

...They were _late!_

"Right, let's go!" he grinned at her, offering an arm. He tossed Lois a charming smile. "Lois," he said by way of farewell.

Lois said nothing, just continued smirking after them triumphantly.

All through dinner, Oliver knew he was behaving abnormally.

* * *

Chloe had to notice it, he tried to tell himself. She was bound to ask him about it. What was he going to say when she did?

That he wanted to do very, very bad things to her while she was in that dress, and that she clearly needed to change clothes to solve the matter?

The dress was a problem. It had him doing things he wasn't supposed to be doing. For instance, while it was perfectly normal for his arm to be draped around the back of her chair-a casual, friendly gesture he had executed countless times-it was far from normal for his hand to be resting on her bare back, drawing patterns in her skin with the pad of his thumb.

It was normal for him to zone out while watching her talk. She was such an animated speaker, and tonight she was particularly lively, especially when compared to lunch, and frequently he would get distracted by her facial expressions and lively voice and energetic gestures to the point that he had to ask her to repeat the entire thing. Now, however, while still plenty distracted by the usual things, he also kept watching her lips and the way her eyes were sparkling and her lips and the sound of her laugh and her lips and the way her skin felt beneath his hand and-

"What do you think, Ollie?"

Oliver started. "Beg pardon?"

And so it went. The entire night. He really had to get her out of that dress.

_Bad choice of words_, he grumbled mentally. _I just want her to take the dress off-I mean to not wear it-oh, God, I need help._

It wasn't that he hadn't thought of her that way. Of course he was well aware that she was attractive. That had nothing to do with it. It was just that upon first meeting him, Chloe had been so ready to shoot down even the most innocent of flirtations, he had immediately stopped making those kind of advances toward her in order to make her comfortable. He liked her a lot, and they had fallen into an easy friendship so naturally that it had never occurred to him to return to flirting with her.

_Stupid dress. I think it's mocking me._

Dr. and Mrs Garner liked her a lot.

_Too much_, he thought sourly.

"So when did you two meet?" Mrs. Garner asked at one point, clearly thinking they were in a relationship.

Chloe answered unthinkingly. "I met him outside his father's office flirting with the secretary," she laughed, clearly unaware of the implications of the question.

Mrs. Garner laughed, and the two women exchanged a glance that clearly translated to: _Men_.

"I bet Laura is just in love with you," she said.

Chloe only blushed. "Well, I certainly think Mrs. Queen is very nice. Both Ollie's parents are wonderful people."

Mrs. Garner nodded approvingly.

"How long have you two been together?" she asked curiously.

At which Chloe looked startled. She giggled at the notion and promptly corrected them, explaining that she and Oliver were _only_ friends, injuring a very small part of Oliver's ego with her total dismissal of the idea.

To which Mrs. Garner looked infinitely surprised, and Dr. Garner threw Oliver a disapproving, _What are you waiting for?_ kind of look. Chloe appeared oblivious.

Oliver thought about explaining that it was all the dress's fault, but he didn't think they'd understand what he was talking about. He settled for attempting to stab the piece of asparagus still lying neglected on his plate.

When they left the restaurant, Oliver automatically took matters into his own hands. "You cold? It's cold. Here."

Before Chloe could say that she wasn't even remotely cold, was actually a bit warm, Oliver had slipped his jacket off and carefully situated it over her shoulders, effectively removing the worst of the dress from his sight. He sighed a deep, inner sigh of relief.

"You all right?" Chloe asked him, an eyebrow raised.

"Me? Fine. What did you think of the Garners?"

She grinned. "I adore them. Definitely the kind of people I would do business with were I the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation," she added jokingly.

"I take it the write up on the good doctor will be a flattering one, then?"

"Definitely." They walked along for a while. Chloe had boycotted taxis sometime around the time she met him for an unknown reason, and she felt awkward having a chauffeur drive them places, so most of the time they walked when they could.

_Though _how_ she can walk in those shoes is beyond me,_ he grimaced, glancing down at her stilettos.

"Ollie? Are you sure you're all right?"

"Why?"

"You were weirdly quiet all during dinner," she noted.

Of course that was what caught her attention. Not the inappropriate staring or even the inappropriate touching she'd been the object of. Just the fact that he hadn't talked much.

He shrugged. "Lot on my mind, I guess." Which was true. Even before the wardrobe fiasco, his mind had been swimming with thoughts of e-mails from his father, the things he had to take care of that weekend, how much he wished he could have brought his Green Arrow gear with him for the weekend without arousing suspicion, and, above all, the traveler and the possibility that he was Chloe's best friend.

Her brow arched when he didn't go into detail, again an unusual action for him, but she didn't press the matter.

"So tomorrow Clark and Lois are taking me to lunch and a movie. Do you want to come?"

His mind reeled. He was encroaching dangerous territory, but he pushed the thought aside. "Yeah, sounds like fun. What are we seeing?"

"There's a new Robin Hood movie with Russel Crowe in it."

_Somewhere, I think God is making fun of me_, Oliver shook his head.


	10. Ch 9: Far Away Kingdoms Part III

Chapter 9:

**Far Away Kingdoms Part III:** **A Grand Ball**

"Quit trying to one up each other and let's go already," Lois said none-too-tactfully. Chloe, though she didn't say so, couldn't help but agree. She had just introduced Oliver and Clark, which had been followed by a handshake that never seemed to end. (Had it not been for Clark's personal advantage, she wasn't sure who would have cracked whose hand. As it was, Clark had clearly applied just enough restraint to not crush Oliver's hand.) It had been a difficult battle not to roll her eyes and tell them to just bring a ruler next time. Lois obviously had less self-control.

When she and Lois returned from buying popcorn only to find the two men still staring each other down. Her blunt demand caused them both to jump.

"Sorry," Clark said, grinning immediately as he stole a piece of Lois's popcorn before taking her hand and heading for the theatre.

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Oliver, smirking at him.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"What was that about?" she asked gesturing to where he and Clark had been just a moment before.

"No idea what you're talking about," Oliver shrugged, the corner of his lip tugging into a smile. He was much more relaxed today, due to the fact that Chloe was dressed merely in a sweater and jeans. A nice, pleasant, not-distracting outfit.

She rolled her eyes. "Would you mind playing nice?" she asked as they followed Clark and Lois. "That's my best friend and my closest family in there. Lois is starting to like you-although I won't get started on _why_-but Clark never trusts any men who show up in my life. I'm lucky he likes my dad."

"Why am I trying to impress him again?" he asked, holding the door open for her.

"Because I'll tell your mother where you really went when she thought you were sick last year."

Oliver paled. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" he heard her ask as she disappeared into the darkness of the theatre.

Shaking his head, he followed after her.

* * *

"So Lois, how's work at the Planet?" Oliver asked Lois after the move, as the four of them sat at lunch.

"Yeah, I've noticed you and Clark have started sharing a fair few bylines," Chloe said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Yeah, well, Smallville here needs all the help he can get," Lois said, which translated from Lois-speak into, 'We make a good team.'

"That's right," Oliver jumped in, eager to get a little insight on Clark Kent. "You two both work at the paper, don't you?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah. Chloe was the one who got me interested in journalism. Lois was the one who forced me to apply for the job." He grinned.

"Huh. I bet that's a pretty exciting job. Chloe's always telling me how non-stop it can be, jumping up every time a police-scanner goes off."

"Just about," Lois agreed. "Although, I'll tell you what, half the time I can't keep track of Clark." She rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"He always disappears right when things get really exciting," she said to Oliver, yet looked at Clark and spoke admonishingly. "Drives me nuts."

"She imagines it," Clark protested. "Just because I'm not directly in your line of sight doesn't mean I'm not there," he pointed out to Lois. "Makes no sense to stick together. We learn more when we split up."

Lois appeared dubious, but merely raised her eyebrows and shoved a forkful of food in her mouth.

Oliver heard Chloe sigh, but when he glanced at her, she wasn't looking at him. She was eyeing Clark, who, Oliver noted, was looking anywhere _but_ at Chloe.

"What about you two?" Clark asked, obviously wanting the spotlight off of him and Lois.

"What about us two?" Oliver asked absently, still studying Chloe.

"Chloe claims you're friends."

"A reasonable claim," he returned, taking a bite of food himself.

When he got no reply, he looked up to find Lois and Clark each giving him distinct and very different kinds of glares. He had already seen Lois's glare. It meant she thought he was wasting time and needed to start making out with her cousin at the soonest possible opportunity. After a second he identified Clark's as meaning he didn't trust Oliver anywhere near Chloe and clearly the fact that he and Chloe weren't dating was confirmation that all this distrust was well-grounded.

Chloe heaved another sigh.

* * *

"By the way, lunch with your friends was fun. Let's never do it again."

Chloe laughed. "I'm so sorry about that. I really thought Clark would behave better than that."

It was later in the evening and they were heading into the ballroom, and Chloe was relieved that she had successfully maneuvered the press outside once again. It was a hazard of being Oliver Queen's friend she had discovered within about two weeks of their first coffee-meeting.

Unbeknownst to Chloe, Clark Kent had managed to pull Oliver aside for a discreet, albeit somewhat melodramatic "Hurt her, and I'll hurt you" speech. Oliver had to give him credit for the gesture. Were the situation reversed, he'd be doing the same thing. At the same time, however, it irked him that no one seemed to believe him when he said that not only did he not have romantic intentions toward Chloe, he _definitely _didn't plan on hurting her any time soon.

"Did you? Because it looked to me like that was typical behavior for the little boyscou-OW! What was that for?"

She'd elbowed him in the ribs. "Talk nice about my best friend," she warned, grinning nonetheless.

Oliver shrugged. "Well, I guess I can't blame the guy. I'd get protective of you, too, the way certain types of men seem t-" he stopped short, groaning. "Speaking of which..."

Chloe followed his line of sight and grinned brightly. Bruce Wayne was making his way toward them.

"Chloe," he greeted warmly, kissing her hand like he always did upon seeing her. "You beautiful creature, how are you? It's been too long."

Chloe thought she heard Oliver mutter something under his breath about it not being long enough, causing her to grin even wider. "It has. I missed you. How have you been?"

"Bored without you. And I have to say, I'm wounded to once again find you on the arm of another man."

Chloe giggled and Oliver grimaced.

Bruce tugged on Chloe's hand and pulled her away to dance.

"Right, don't mind me," Oliver said to no one, rolling his eyes. He went to get a drink.

Bruce's attention to Chloe was bordering on annoying at best, and downright infuriating at worst. Time and time again Oliver had warned Bruce that Chloe was not to be some casual fling. She just wasn't that kind of girl.

He really didn't blame Clark Kent, now he thought about it. In his eyes, Oliver was probably just like Bruce. Some undeserving man who might take advantage of an innocent girl. Not that Oliver _would_ do any such thing, of course. But he could see where Clark might get that idea; Oliver _did_ have a reputation.

Bruce on the other hand, well, it was just bad news. He was Batman, for the love of- Oliver shook his head. What did Bruce think he was doing, stringing Chloe along? He glanced at them.

Chloe, meanwhile, was rather enjoying herself dancing with Bruce. Had Bruce kept on flirting with her after the charity ball hosted at the Queens, she would most likely have discouraged him similarly to the way she handled Oliver upon their first meeting. However, Bruce and she had quickly formed a sort of alliance. They both shared a secret love for pushing Oliver's buttons, and apparently nothing did that more than seeing Bruce flirt with her. Besides that, they enjoyed each other's company. Bruce was charming and gentlemanly and witty, and he got a kick out of Chloe's sarcastic immunity to him. Chloe got a few inside tips from him once in a while for her articles, and Bruce got the pleasure of seeing Oliver turn red in the face every time he said a single word to Chloe, not to mention her occasional flattering mentions of him in the paper.

Chloe had to admit she liked Bruce, maybe even had the smallest of innocent crushes on him. She blamed it on the knowledge that he was Batman. She had a thing for heroes, unfortunately. Not that it was anything serious, of course. Just that she didn't happen to mind all _that_ much when he flirted.

Speaking of which, Bruce leaned forward with a devious grin on his lips. "Want to make Oliver turn thirteen shades of purple?"

She grinned right back. "What do you propose?"

"Well, I'm going to whisper in your ear like this, and then you're going to giggle and slap my shoulder," he told her, whispering in her ear as stated.

Chloe did giggle naturally, and followed his instructions to swat his shoulder.

"So," Bruce said, making a point of leaning especially close to her, to give off the impression that he was thinking about kissing her, "are you still playing dumb where Oliver's concerned?"

Chloe fought not to roll her eyes. "I'm not playing dumb."

Bruce smirked.

"How many times do I have to point out to you that Ollie and I are just friends. We don't think of each other that way?"

"Which is why it makes him incredibly jealous when I do this?" he asked, sliding his hand inappropriately low and pulling her a little closer. Bruce enjoyed the games with Chloe. It was fun to get Oliver Queen riled up. The man was wound too tightly when it came to Chloe, and Bruce had been trying unsuccessfully to get the pair of them to realize they were in denial about each other. In the meantime, of course, he got the pleasure of Chloe's company, as well as the pleasure of occasionally manhandling her.

"He's not _jealous_," Chloe responded for what felt like the umpteenth time, discreetly moving Bruce's hand back up. "He's overprotective."

"Same thing."

She shook her head.

"What's the difference then?" he smirked.

"You can be protective of someone without wanting to get them in your bed."

He cocked an eyebrow. "But _I'm_ protective of you, and _I_ want you in my bed," he teased lightheartedly.

Chloe laughed, knowing he wasn't truly serious.

Bruce gave in for the moment, deciding not to trouble her further. "By the way, I read the article."

"Which one?"

"_A World in Need of Heroes_._"_

Chloe turned bright red. "Oh. What did you think?"

"I was thoroughly impressed. It was a pretty good depiction of what's going on with these people."

Internally Chloe was beaming, but she only raised an eyebrow. "You who thought Batman should leave police business to the police?" she challenged.

He shrugged a shoulder carelessly. "I guess you persuaded me to look at it otherwise. I was particularly impressed by the quote from Gotham PD, something about needing 'all the help they can get,' I think it was?" He had his suspicions who the quote might have come from. He'd have asked Chloe outright if it were Commissioner Gordon, but he knew she'd never give up her source. "But I think the clincher was when you said that 'It will be a happy day indeed when America no longer needs heroes like Batman, the Blur, and the Green Arrow; but today, here and now, we do.' Not to mention the part about those heroes looking forward to that day. Very insightful. It made me think."

Chloe was surprised at his ability to quote her word for word, not to mention immensely flattered, considering he had been a subject of the article. She could feel her face growing hot. "I guess I made an impression."

He nodded.

"Thanks."

Bruce had the distinct impression he should be thanking her. That article had given him a faint glimmer of hope that perhaps being Batman was not entirely a thankless task. Every once in a while, something convinced him to keep going. At the moment, it was Chloe's unsought, unashamed, unbreakable, and yet apparently logical, balanced, and informed faith in him and the others that had succeeded in lifting his spirits, if only slightly. He sincerely admired the young woman in his arms, and he hadn't been lying when he said he was protective of her. In their few brief encounters, he had grown exceptionally fond of her. "I think we should give Oliver a break," he said, changing the subject and glancing at his friend, who was talking to a pretty brunette. "Apparently he needs to be reminded that he brought a date."

Chloe followed his gaze and instantly resisted being steered in Oliver's direction. "No, leave him alone. It's not like I'm a real date."

Bruce laughed. "What constitutes a real date?"

"Some form of romantic obligation. Oliver can chat up whomever he likes, as long as he doesn't forget that I need a ride back to my cousin's place at the end of the night."

Bruce lifted a disapproving eyebrow. "Whatever you say. I'd still like a drink, though."

"Fine," Chloe gave in, allowing him to lead her away.

* * *

Oliver, half listening to the brunette's conversation, watched them go out of the corner of his eye. Maybe he shouldn't bring Chloe as his date to things like this after all. Not if she was going to abandon him to spend the entire night with Bruce.

And Bruce had been getting far too friendly. Oliver had seen him sliding his hand over the black chiffon of her dress, groping her like she was a piece of meat. And Chloe letting him. It was absolutely indecent was what it was. Bruce was lucky Oliver had to take Chloe home that night. Otherwise, he'd be paying the bat a visit later that evening.

He cooled down after a while, however. Eventually the brunette gave up on him, noticing that she had had to give him her name at least six times. He clearly wasn't paying her his full attention. Shortly after that, Chloe returned to his side, saying that Bruce had people to make nice to, and that she wanted to dance with him.

She dragged him out on the floor for a slow song, putting her arms around his neck. Oliver instantly noticed she was pleased about something. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She shrugged.

"You're never this happy after spending time with _me_," he teased.

"Not true," she tossed back. "Besides, how would you know? You're never around after I've been spending time with you. Hence the term 'after,' " she pointed out. Chloe didn't want to tell him about Bruce praising her article, which was what still had her glowing. She wouldn't be able to explain why his praise in particular meant so much to her, and it would make Oliver think she didn't value his opinion as much as Bruce's.

Then again, there was a good possibility she did value Oliver's opinion for similar reasons.

After six months in Star City, and finally being personally rescued by the Green Arrow, the inevitable had occurred. Chloe had set out with determined ambition to find out who the emerald archer was. Days later, when her computer had helped her narrow it down to a list of 20 possible men living within Star City limits (mostly based on body type but also resources) and she had found Oliver's name on the list, she had stopped in her tracks, shutting the program on her computer down, fighting with every ounce of energy she had against her natural curiosity.

It had been difficult beyond belief to make herself let it go, but all she could think about was the years she spent harboring Clark's secret, waiting for him to tell her himself, only to be disappointed. Only when she revealed that she already knew did Clark trust her. The possibility that once again her best friend was hiding a double life from her was a little too much for her to handle. She was choosing to believe that Oliver was not the Green Arrow and she had nothing to worry about. If she chose to believe that it was someone else, there was no betrayal, no lack of trust.

So she carefully dodged talking about the Green Arrow around him, not giving him an opportunity to lie to her if it were really the case that he was the bow-and-arrow-wielding hero.

Oliver was about to try another approach to finding out why she looked so thrilled about something, but then to his surprise, he watched all the happiness and pleasure slowly drain out of her face, leaving her pale and anxious.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly, looking over his shoulder to see what she was looking at. It didn't take long. He glowered.

_Lex._


	11. Ch 10: Far Away Kingdoms Part IV

**Chapter 10:**

**Far Away Kingdoms Part IV: Prince John and the 'Honorable' Sheriff**

"Oliver," Lex smirked in greeting. "Chloe." Oliver automatically shifted his stance protectively, moving ever so slightly in front of Chloe and closer to Lex. He didn't like the way Lex was looking at Chloe. His eyes began surreptitiously scanning the room. If Lex was here, there was a good chance Lionel was as well. He needed to find out what Lionel and Oliver's father had been fighting about.

"How are you, Lex?" Oliver asked absently.

"Oh I've been fine. I saw you were here with Miss Sullivan," he said her name with utmost disdain, implying that he couldn't imagine why Oliver was giving her the time of day, "and I thought I'd ask how she's been doing since the last time I saw her."

"She's working for the Gazette now," Oliver responded, noticing with concern that Chloe wasn't speaking. It didn't appear to be a problem of having lost her tongue, however. By the look in her eyes, he suspected that Chloe was trying to find a way to fit all the insults she possibly could into one sentence, but hadn't settled on anything good enough just yet.

Lex's brow lifted in surprise. "Is she? Oh, that's right. I think I read that article of yours on terrorists. Seemed awfully sentimental to me."

Chloe immediately stiffened, knowing which one he was referring to. "It was hardly about terrorism, Lex. But then, you've never had much of a head for journalism, have you? I understand the sales of the Daily Planet have seriously decreased since you took over. I believe people have been complaining about reliability?"

Oliver's eyebrow rose as well now, not daring to _wonder_ how Chloe knew that. Then again, he supposed it wasn't shocking that she was keeping tabs on the Daily Planet.

Lex's eyes narrowed. "You seem to have been misinformed."

"How's your father, Lex? I assume he's here tonight?" Oliver asked, steering the conversation out of dangerous waters.

"He's talking to the governor," Lex answered boredly.

"Is he?" Oliver asked, scanning the room again before finally resting his eyes on Luthor Sr.

"Yes, about the upcoming election, I believe, or something of that nature. I hardly keep track of the man."

Oliver resisted the urge to argue. He happened to know that Lionel and Lex had been engaged in a war of secrets and spying for several years now. "You know, I've been meaning to speak to him about something for a while now. I'd hate to miss the opportunity," he said, indicating their brief conversation was over and quickly guiding Chloe away. She still had her eyes pinned on Lex with more malice than he would ever have believed her capable of. It didn't suit her, the total loathing in her eyes. "You all right?" he asked.

"I hate him," was all she said.

Oliver tried to hide his surprise. "All this because he fired you?"

Chloe looked startled for a moment, but quickly regained composure, the anger draining from her expression. "No. There have been..._other things_," she explained ambiguously. "He's not a good person. He makes my skin crawl."

Oliver wondered what she knew about Lex that inspired such passionate venom, but he didn't have time to pry it out of her. "Chloe, I'm sorry to do this to you, but would you mind horribly if I _did_ slip off and talk to Lionel for a moment? I'm sure Bruce would be happy to look after you for a little while," he added.

Chloe wasn't sure what surprised her more, that Oliver had actually _suggested_ she spend time with Bruce, or that he actually had a reason to want to talk to Lex's father. "What do you want with Lionel?" she asked.

"It's...business related. Don't worry. I'll be right back," he said, turning from her in his apparent hurry.

Chloe grabbed his lapel and turned him to face her. "Lionel's as much of a snake as his son. Whatever you've got to do with him probably isn't a good idea."

She released him and walked away to find a drink.

Oliver watched her go warily, wishing he could explain himself. He shook the idea from his head. Chloe wasn't going to hold one conversation against him.

Within minutes he had successfully maneuvered Lionel Luthor out of the ballroom and into a hallway for a more private chat.

* * *

Chloe watched them go over the rim of her glass. Once they were out of sight she ditched the drink and followed after them. If Oliver thought she was going to let this go, he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

Glancing around her to make sure no one was looking at her, she slipped into the hallway after them. She could hear the low murmur of voices around a corner, and she carefully crept along the wall, wishing her dress weren't rustling quite so much.

_Silk from here on out_, she thought humorously as she approached the corner and their voices became more distinct.

"I don't see what this has to do with you, young man. If your father hasn't told you what our meeting was about all those months ago, then it doesn't concern you."

"Don't give me that," came Oliver's voice, and Chloe stifled a small gasp of surprise at the harshness there. She'd never heard Oliver sound like that. "Queen Industries doesn't do business with Luthorcorp. Not if we can help it. My dad claims it was a personal visit, and we both know that's a downright lie."

"What makes you say that?" came Lionel's patronizing tone. "Really, Oliver, if your parents don't trust you enough t-"

There was a loud thud, and Chloe realized with shock that Oliver must have pinned Lionel to the wall.

"You tried to kill them, Lionel. You tried to kill my parents all those years ago, and right now it's only their total distrust and disdain for you that's kept them alive."

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you mean the incident at the airstrip, that certainly was regrettable, and thank goodness Robert and Laura evaded that tragedy, but if you're trying to insinuate that _I_ had anything to do with it, well," Lionel chuckled that patronizing laugh Chloe had heard so many times, "you'll be disappointed to hear I had nothing to do with it."

Oliver practically growled in response. "Don't insult my intelligence. We both know it was you. Now I want to know what had my father breaking almost two decades of silence between you and coming all the way to Metropolis to talk to you."

Chloe's mind reeled. It was a good question. What _had_ Robert Queen wanted to speak to Lionel about that was so urgent?

"Why don't you try asking your father, Oliver?" Lionel responded coolly, indicating that Oliver wasn't going to get anywhere this way. "If you'll excuse me, I think I should return before I'm missed."

Chloe's heart stopped as she realized they were walking her way. She didn't have time to get back to the ballroom without being caught. Looking around wildly, she chose a door and threw herself inside, not daring to close the door all the way for fear of the click of the lock exposing her.

She watched through the crack as Lionel Luthor haughtily returned to the throng, clearly annoyed at Oliver's thuggish attempt to get information out of him. She had to admit, it was amateurish to think that Lionel Luthor would respond to that crude approach. She shook her head at Oliver's naivete. What had made him think he would get anywhere that way?

Then it occurred to her that it had been about half a year since the incident had occurred. She had probably witnessed Oliver's final-not first-attempt to find something out. He was at the end of his rope.

She held her breath as Oliver rounded the corner and her eyes widened slightly at the look on his face.

Something was distinctly different from what she was used to seeing. The Oliver Queen she had become such good friends with was arrogant and suave and calm at all times. He never showed signs of obsession and very little invoked his passion. Now, however, there was a gleam of something in his eyes, a thirst for righteousness and a hunger for justice.

She closed her eyes, not liking it. She had seen it too many times in too many other men's eyes. She didn't want that to be a part of who Oliver was, too. She wasn't ready to accept that.

When she was certain he was gone, Chloe slipped out of the room she'd been in and walked back down the hall to join the party. When she found Oliver, he appeared back to normal, but she noticed that the grip he had on his drink had his knuckles turning rather white.

* * *

"Hey, Lo?" Chloe asked into her cell phone.

"Hey, cuz. How was the thing?"

"Great, but, um, listen. Oliver's a little..." she glanced at her companion with an amused smile. _"tipsy_. I'm taking him up to his suite to make sure he's all right, and then I'll take a cab to your place, all right."

"You got him drunk and now you're going to his place for hot sex?" Lois reeled off. "Got it."

Chloe's lips parted to defend herself, but they closed again, realizing it was futile.

"Is that Lois? Hi, Lois," Oliver said, moving his face next to Chloe's so Lois could hear him.

"Hi, Oliver," came Lois's entertained voice.

"_Bye_, Lois," Chloe ended, turning her phone off. "Come on, Oliver, let's get you to bed," Chloe said sweetly, and Oliver slung his arm over her shoulder, nose pressing against hers.

"Have I told you how pretty you are?" he asked, probably thinking he sounded more serious than he actually did.

"Only three times in the elevator outside," she grinned, pressing the tip of her finger to his nose to push him away. Oliver really wasn't completely drunk, he'd had just enough by the time the night was over to have him acting a bit...'silly' seemed to be the appropriate word. "Come on, big boy. To the bed," she said, directing him to his bedroom.

"_That_," he said slowly, "Is what they all say."

Chloe rolled her eyes, smirking. He sat down on his bed and attempted to get his shoes off, but appeared to be having some trouble. So, even in her evening gown, Chloe sat down on the floor and untied the laces for him so he could pull them off. Rising to her knees she removed his bow tie and then helped him out of his suit jacket. She carried the things over to lay on a chair, and turned to find Oliver stripping himself of his shirt. Chloe raised an eyebrow. She had seen Oliver shirtless several times, but the sight never failed to impress. Oliver was good looking, and she would be an idiot to think she could deny it.

She walked over to take those things from him as well, but he just flopped backward on the bed and pulled her down with him. Chloe laughed from on top of him and was about to push herself up when he threw an arm around her waist to stop her. He looked her square in the eyes. "You're not going to marry Bruce, are you?" he asked.

Chloe laughed. "I'm not planning on it."

"Good," he said, sounding relieved. "Cuz he'd drive you bats." Suddenly he laughed at his inadvertent, seemingly inside joke. Chloe chuckled.

"What's wrong with him?" she couldn't help but ask.

"He's depressing."

The description surprised Chloe. Bruce put up a pretty convincing facade of being just another playboy. She realized he and Oliver must be much better friends than she'd thought. Oliver had probably seen a more real side of Bruce than she'd been privy to.

"Well, don't worry," Chloe said, pressing her nose to his in similar fashion to what he had done upon entering the hotel suite. "I'll be sure to run any future husbands by you for inspection first," she teased.

"You should," he agreed.

"Would you mind telling me why you felt the need to have that last martini?" she asked, looking down at him and seeing that he'd relaxed more.

He shrugged. "Luthors bug me."

Chloe smirked. "I guess I can relate to that."

His expression changed. "You _hate_ them. _Really_ hate them."

Chloe didn't respond, not liking the sudden turn in conversation. He suddenly seemed much more sober to her.

"Why?"

"They're not good people."

"But you never hate _anyone_. You trust everybody."

"Until they prove themselves unworthy of that trust," Chloe finished, moving to push herself off of him at last. As she pulled away, however, Oliver sat up again and pulled her forward to straddle his lap, her skirt hiking up.

"We should do stuff like this more often," he told her.

"Like what?" she asked absently, thinking the position was a bit too friendly even for them.

"Travel together. This has been the most not boring business trip ever."

Chloe grinned. "Thanks."

Oliver's forehead rested against hers. "My mother thinks I'm dating you."

"We've told her a million times that we're just friends," Chloe reminded him, amused.

"I know. She doesn't...believe us." Oliver seemed to have become rather distracted by her mouth.

"Lois doesn't believe us either," Chloe said, her voice a whisper for some reason, perhaps because he was so close. It occurred to her that all she had to do was tilt her head to the side, that all he had to do was close a very small space and they would be-

"I need to get going," Chloe said loudly, rising abruptly from his lap. Oliver tumbled forward. "I'll see you in the morning, Ollie," she said. Seconds later Oliver heard the door of the hotel room shut.


	12. Ch 11: The Return of Little John

**Chapter 11:**

**The Return of John Little**

It had been weeks since the trip and what Chloe had dubbed in her mind as 'the incident,' Chloe and Oliver had returned to a state of comfortable normalcy almost immediately afterward, both following a silent agreement not to talk about what had happened in Oliver's room. Not that it prevented Oliver from thinking about it every five seconds or stopped Chloe from blushing every so often when she caught herself staring at him unconsciously.

Currently, the two of them were preparing for Christmas, which Chloe had been invited to spend at the Queen mansion.

She knew the invitation was due to the fact that Laura Queen had been putting at least 90% of her energy into forcing Chloe and Oliver to become a couple, but she couldn't help but be grateful. Apparently the General was whisking Lois away for the holidays, and the Kents had been invited along. Even though she was welcome to go off and visit the General, for some reason she wasn't able to excite herself about the idea. Her own father was-much as she tried not to think about it-_seeing_ someone, and it was going to be their first Christmas together. Chloe was of course welcome in her own home, but even though Chloe didn't expect their relationship to last, when Mrs. Queen made Chloe the offer, she'd decided to let her dad and his...friend have some space.

With a week until Christmas, Chloe was helping Laura decorate, which was an even more daunting task than it had originally seemed. However, Chloe was throwing herself into the matter heart and soul. She didn't want to admit it, but the hole Kent-Lane Christmas, not to mention her father's new found...friendship, had left her feeling somewhat lonely.

_At least I've got Ollie and his parents_, she thought fondly, standing alongside Mrs. Queen as they directed and redirected Oliver on exactly where to hang a wreath. Sure, they had hired professionals to decorate the house, but it was just too much fun telling Oliver what to do to let anyone else handle certain tasks.

Oliver was a good sport, of course. Laughing at the women's indecisiveness, he wiped the sweat from his brow and warned them that he was going on strike in thirty seconds if they hadn't found the dead center of the banister yet. Chloe swallowed hard. For the past ten minutes it had been difficult not to stare at the incredibly well-defined muscles on Oliver's arms.

"Can't I just get a tape measurer to find the center?" he called down to them, hanging haphazardly from the balcony to reposition the giant wreath again.

"Why didn't we think of that in the first place?" Chloe asked, laughing in turn.

"Because this was much more fun," Laura pointed out, grabbing a tape measurer from her jean pocket, at which Chloe laughed even harder. She took it from Laura and tossed it up to Oliver.

"You women are going to be my demise," he warned them as he caught it.

"Only if you stop following instructions, darling," Laura called back.

Oliver shook his head.

"So, Chloe, how are things at the paper?" Laura asked. "Oliver tells me you work nonstop."

"Well," Chloe said, sitting down on the floor to watch Oliver (she'd been on her feet all day), "I know he thinks I burn the candle at both ends, but I promise, _occasionally_ I go home at night. It's just difficult to keep the balance when any given moment something world-altering could be happening and I might be missing the story." She grinned to herself. It really was difficult to tell herself to stop being a journalist sometimes.

"Well, I admire your passion. It's so nice to see that. It seems to be a dying quality to be both ambitious and not mind hard work these days."

Chloe's cheeks tinged pink. Oliver's parents praised her constantly, and she wasn't always certain she was as amazing as they made her out to be, but it was nice to hear nonetheless.

"So," Oliver said, dusting his hands off as he headed down the stairs toward them. "Lunch?" he asked Chloe, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"I thought you'd never ask," Chloe laughed, putting an arm around his waist in return and ignoring the sudden flush in her cheeks. Her stomach had been rumbling for hours.

"Oh, good. I was starting to get concerned you only kept me around for my muscles," he teased, walking her toward the kitchen.

"Cheeky thing," his mother muttered, smiling nonetheless.

"Coming, Mom?" Oliver asked over his shoulder.

"You two go ahead," she said, waving them off and heading upstairs.

"I feel like the greatest mistake I ever made was allowing my mother to be in the same room as you," Oliver joked on the way down the hall. "I never thought I'd see the day where I met someone as into Christmas as her."

Chloe shrugged. "I like the holidays."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

She swatted the back of his head and ducked from under his arm. "Hi, Mike," she greeted cheerfully upon entering the kitchen and finding the chef there.

"Miss Chloe," he beamed. "Lunch?" he asked. She nodded. "I made reubens. I figured you two would be in here any minute." He indicated a couple of sandwiches already waiting for them.

"Aw, we could have made something for ourselves," Chloe said, throwing her arms around Mike's neck and planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Oliver pushed aside the instant but slight tinge of jealousy for the gesture. Chloe had not been in the Queen manor for three minutes before making intimate friends with every staff member there. After knowing Oliver for close to a year, the staff had grown to love her. As a matter of fact, as Oliver was constantly mentioning, he had the sneaking suspicion that they all liked her better than him.

To which she always replied, "Well duh."

"So what are you getting Chloe for Christmas?" Chloe asked in the third person, being as nonchalant as possible.

"Absolutely nothing," Oliver replied. "Why? You think she deserves a present?" he smirked at her as he took a bite of his sandwich, which was still hot from the frying pan.

Chloe rolled her eyes, grinning nonetheless. Ever curious, she'd been trying to surprise the answer out of him for days.

* * *

Christmas Eve had arrived, and Oliver had been cursing another of Chloe's cocktail dresses in his mind as they sat around with his parents, sipping champagne after dinner, just talking and relaxing.

They'd had a party, of course, and Oliver had danced with Chloe several songs, wondering all the while whether she'd had more to drink than he realized, or if there were another reason for the increasing blush in her cheeks. He'd watched with a slight pang of annoyance as other men flirted with her, and Chloe never properly discouraged them, mostly because she was oblivious to the motive of their attentions. He couldn't help but remember one of the first things he ever said to her: that she had no idea how beautiful she was. It just didn't occur to Chloe that she was attractive.

Chloe, meanwhile, had spent a great portion of the evening wondering if she were imagining Oliver's eyes on her constantly. Eventually she brushed it off as him being overprotective, not unlike the way he handled her talking to Bruce. She did note, however, when the guests had gone home, that he looked especially nice that evening, his sleeves rolled up, his tie carelessly loosened, shirt tail hanging out, and the top buttons undone. She liked him like that. He looked so relaxed and at ease, but at the same time, he exuded a power and control over everything around him. He owned the room without having to so much as lift a finger.

As it reached later and later hours, Chloe finally excuse herself for bed rising to head up to the guest room she'd been staying in, and Oliver decided to follow after. Until his father cleared his throat and stopped them in their tracks with two words. "Kids," he said, a hint of pleasure in his voice, "tradition."

His eyes were above their heads, and Oliver and Chloe closed their eyes in disbelief. Mistletoe. Laura had been putting up new sprigs everyday for unstated but rather obvious reasons, but Chloe and Oliver had successfully avoided it.

Until that moment, apparently. They looked back at each other embarrassedly, but then to Chloe's surprise, Oliver shrugged, leaned down, and planted a friendly kiss on Chloe's lips. Chloe looked mildly astonished, but he just grinned. "They never would have left us alone if we hadn't," he whispered. "Night, Mom. Night, Dad. Merry Christmas," he said more loudly, before turning to leave the room.

Chloe followed after, eyebrows still slightly raised. She lifted her fingers and traced them along her lips.

_Well that was unexpected,_ she thought.

Oliver meanwhile, was glad no one could see his face because he was sure his face was on fire.

_Damn dresses_, he thought.

* * *

It was a quarter to midnight when Chloe rolled over, still wide awake. She had the strangest feeling that someone was in the house who hadn't been there before.

Once upon a time, she would have told herself it was Santa Claus. At the moment, however, she just didn't think so. Wrapping herself in a robe, she slowly opened her door and walked down the hallway, her ears picking up the sound of male voices now that she'd left her room. She followed them down to Oliver's room, the voices growing sharper and sharper. She was about to knock on his door to see what was going on, but at the sound of an unknown voice, she stopped.

"I'm telling you, Oliver, you need to let this 'traveler' thing go. I don't know why you didn't tell me about the Teagues and the Swanns, but if you think I'm going to let you become the next on Lionel's hit list, you're more of an idiot than I realized."

Chloe recognized that voice. She was sure of it. She couldn't place it, though, and there were more important matters at hand, like Oliver knowing about the Traveler.

"Look, Hal, I'm not letting this go, and that's exactly why. Luthor tried to off my parents. He's willing to go to any lengths to make sure he's the only one who has any influence on this guy, and I can't let that happen. Now tell me what you found out in Metropolis."

Chloe stifled a gasp.

"I think you're right about the Kent kid," Oliver's friend responded wearily. "Don't know how you pegged it to him, but I kept an eye on him for a couple of days, and he was constantly disappearing. I finally caught him in the act. I was stopping a robbery when he showed up to do the exact same thing. Pretended I had no idea who he was. Nice guy actually," he added.

"I can't believe it. So it really is him, then?"

"I'd put good money on it, man. Especially when you consider the fact that he's from Smallville. Sounds like there was another motive behind shipping Lex to that particular small town back when. Then there's that whole meteor shower thing. The timing's all a little too convenient to ignore."

Chloe couldn't-_refused_-to believe what she was hearing. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

* * *

To say Oliver was getting concerned would be an understatement. Chloe barely acknowledged him all day Christmas day. She spoke to him only when it was absolutely necessary and she was avoiding eye contact. Even when she unwrapped his gift, a beautiful leather bound journal accompanied by a stunning silver pen, she gave him only a forced smile and empty-sounding "Thank you." When he opened her gift, a framed photograph of them, she'd returned his hug but stiffly, and he'd had the distinct impression his gesture was unwelcome at best.

It had to be something to do with him. She was still acting perfectly fine around his parents.

He'd begun to think maybe she had really had a problem with him kissing her under the mistletoe the night before when he headed upstairs that night. He didn't see _why_ it would be such a big deal. The kiss had barely lasted one or two seconds-however nice it might have been-and it wasn't as though there were any real reason to feel awkward about it. They'd been friends long enough that it shouldn't have mattered.

He shook his head wearily, thinking all women were nuts when he opened the door of his bedroom and his eyebrows shot up in complete shock.

Chloe was sitting at his desk, her legs crossed and arms folded. His laptop was open, and she was shooting daggers at him.

"Chloe?" he asked, confused.

"Want to explain to me why you've been doing a background check on my best friend?" She gestured the computer, on which she had pulled up several files related to Clark Kent. He didn't have the stomach to wonder how she'd managed to crack the passwords involved in accessing those.

Oliver's feet grew roots. Lightning could have struck and he wouldn't have flinched as he stared at her in horror. "What?" he managed.

"Why have you been researching Clark? How in God's name did you find out he was-" she stopped herself, swallowing tightly. Tears were welling in her eyes and Oliver started to panic. There was no way he could explain this. "Please," she closed her eyes, speaking quietly, "please, _please_ tell me-" she choked, "that we are not friends because you were using me to get to Clark. Please tell me I was not just some pawn."

She opened her eyes and looked into his defiantly.

"Chloe, no. It's not like that. I-" but she was already getting up from the chair and brushing past him.

"My bags are packed and I'm leaving. Please apologize to your parents for me in the morning."

Oliver chased after her. He grabbed her arm and swung her around. "Chloe, listen-"

"No, you listen!" she said loudly, a tremor in her voice. "You've got a lot of gall even speaking to me. I can't believe that you would stoop so low as to-" she shook her head. "I guess I don't really know you at all, do I?You're just as bad as Lex, aren't you? He used to do the same kind of things: using people, spying on people, keeping secrets. It never occurred to him to just ask a direct question, either."

And she wrenched her arm free of his hold, walking away, ice crystallizing on the ground beneath every tread of her feet, leaving Oliver alone in horror.


	13. Ch 12: Will Scarlet and a Wounded Robin

**Chapter 12:**

**Will Scarlet and A Wounded Robin**

_January – One Month Later_

Clad in Green Arrow gear, Oliver stood on the roof of a skyscraper, staring down at the city beneath him, staring at her building, wondering whether she were asleep.

He shook himself. Every detail was still streaming through his mind. He couldn't erase it, not one second of it. First, Christmas, when she'd looked at him with such loathing, such resentment. She'd compared him to a man she despised - _he_ despised.

And then...God, then.

Night after night it happened. And day after day the scenes replayed themselves in his mind.

He hated himself for dreaming about her that way. It felt like a violation in more ways than he could explain. Every dream had a pattern, though. They never spoke; she never gave him an opportunity to speak. It was always desperate, even violent, like he was trying to possess her, own her. And she always looked at him like she loved him, like she was actually deeply, deeply in love with him.

And of course, a minor detail, she was always wearing emerald green lingerie.

He more or less had it figured out. After a month of these dreams, he'd had more than enough time to analyze his own warped mind.

They never spoke because he didn't have the slightest idea what _could_ be said, how he could begin to apologize and try to convince her that he hadn't been using her. They had sex because, as he was sure some pompous shrink would phrase it, he "longed for intimacy with her." Not necessarily the kind in his dreams, but the kind where he was able to tell her everything, the whole damn story: about his parents' escape from death, about the Veritas group, the Traveler, about the fact that he was the Green Arrow - which led him to the green lingerie. He figured it was a kind of symbolism of her acceptance of his alter-ego.

As for the..._possessive_ nature he seemed to take on, he chalked that up to jealousy, plain and simple. He'd spoken with Hal Jordan again, and his friend hadn't been in the room five minutes before he had Oliver spilling the whole story. It was when he gave Hal Chloe's name that he looked shocked.

"_Wait, wait, say that again."_

"_Chloe Sullivan."_

"_She's a reporter?"_

"_Yeah, I've mentioned that before," Oliver frowned._

_To which Hal started laughing._

"_What?"_

"_Dude, remember that chick I saved from a mugger last summer?"_

_Oliver frowned before the memory slowly came back to him. His eyes widened._

"_Miss Find-Me-When-You-Need-Me?" Hal had mocked. "Yeah, that's her."_

Oliver shook his head. It made sense, considering her best friend was theoretically the greatest hero the world would ever know.

So now he found himself immensely envious of Clark Kent, who apparently exactly the kind of relationship with Chloe that he'd always wanted. Based on what Chloe had once told the Green Lantern, he took that to mean that Chloe had long known Kent's secret, that he had powers Oliver could never dream of.

God, he wanted that. He wanted Chloe's undying faith and friendship and loyalty, and in return he wanted to be able to give all that back to her in full force. Ever since he had first heard his parents speaking of the Traveler, Oliver had felt a certain envy toward him. Chloe was just one more reason to support that envy.

Gazing down at her window, he wondered whether she missed him half as much as he did her. He'd made a habit long before their fight of keeping a special eye on her, just to make sure she stayed out of trouble - that she was safe.

He didn't ask himself why she looked like she was in love with him in the dreams, or why he felt like he loved her back in them. It was asking too much of him to address that problem. Right now, all he could do was wonder what it would take to convince her to trust him again, to even look at him again, as it were.

* * *

Chloe walked into the Daily Planet the next morning and instantly Annette and several other women, who had been clustered around something, spun around to face Chloe, guilty expressions on their faces. Chloe's brow lifted slightly. She would have assumed it was because they had once again without her permission opened the note attached to the daily bouquets of flowers Oliver had been sending, but they'd done that almost every day. This was different.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Did you hear about the string of art robberies in Europe?" Annette asked, stepping forward and guiding her away from the girls.

Before Chloe could respond, Jeremy appeared, a cup of Chloe's favorite coffee in his hand. "Hi, Miss Chloe!" he stammered nervously. "How are you this morning? Hear about the coach of the Rockets? He's talking about retiring after this season."

Chloe looked at Annette and then Jeremy, eyes narrowed suspiciously at their eagerness to distract her. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, Chloe turned away from them and stalked back toward the other women, who were now attempting to stash something out of sight. Before they could do anything to stop her, she pulled a magazine from one of their hands, recognizing it to be the source of the trouble.

She looked at the picture, aware of everyone's eyes resting anxiously on her. Her eyes flitted over the cover, and to everyone's astonishment, a small smile graced her lips.

It was a picture of Oliver Queen with a woman on his arm, someone the inside article named as a Russian ballerina currently touring the country with her dance company. They'd attended some benefit together. She was pretty, Chloe thought, determinedly ignoring the slight hint of regret she felt.

She looked up at her coworkers, all of whom looked poised for flight. Annette looked prepared to whip a packet of tissues out of her desk drawer, apparently expecting Chloe to cry or something.

"Guys," she said slowly. "It's not big deal. Oliver and I - " she was about to say they 'were just friends' but the treacherous past tense got stuck in her throat, " - we were not and are not dating," she said instead. "He's welcome to go out with anyone he likes. At least she doesn't look like a total tart. That's nice." She tossed the rag to one of the women and headed for her desk, heaving a weary sigh at the sight of yet another vase of apology flowers sitting on top of her things.

* * *

A week later, Chloe was working late into the night, writing an article that couldn't wait, listening to the police scanner in case anything happened. All of a sudden a gust of wind knocked the papers off her desk. She blinked and they'd been neatly stacked again. "Sorry about that, mamacita," said a strangely familiar voice.

Chloe found herself looking at a wiry young man whose face exuded confidence and a good sense of humor.

"How are you?"

After several false starts, Chloe was saved by the ringing of her cell phone. She answered it, her eyes still resting on the young man.

"Hello?" she asked into her phone.

"Chloe? It's Clark."

"Hi, Clark."

"I thought I'd warn you. Bart Allen was in town this weekend, and he asked about you. I mentioned that you'd moved and he decided to pay you - "

"A visit?" Chloe finished, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Yeah, you remember him, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," she laughed.

Clark paused. "He's - "

"Already here? Mmhmm. Later, Clark. Thanks for the warning."

She hung up her cell and grinned at Bart.

"Miss me?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Chloe grinned. "Of course." She rose to hug Bart. "Gosh I haven't seen you in about a year, have I?" Ever since that first meeting in Smallville, back when Bart had stolen Jonathan Kent's wallet, Bart made a point of passing through around once a year. He had an enormous crush on Chloe, and flirted with her relentlessly. Chloe adored him, thinking of him as a sort of kid brother.

Bart eagerly returned the hug. "Year and half. Read your big article, by the way. I'm hurt I wasn't mentioned," he teased.

"You liked it?" she asked, sitting back down as Bart sat on her desk, legs swinging back and forth.

"Thought it was awesome, 'licious," he told her sincerely. "Nice to get a little bit of decent PR."

Chloe smiled properly, a real honest, genuine smile, and it struck her that she'd done that more in five seconds with Bart than she had in the entire month following Christmas.

"So I heard you haven't been doing too well," Bart said, eyeing her as though he thought she might have been suffering some physical ailment.

Chloe sighed. "I guess I've just got New Year blues." She was sure Clark had told Bart that she was depressed, but fortunately she hadn't really told Clark the reason for her falling out with Oliver. She hadn't had the nerve. She still didn't fully understand what Oliver had to do with Clark to begin with, but she needed to figure it out before she confronted either of them. Otherwise Clark would be sure to jump to conclusions.

He raised an eyebrow. "January's almost over. What's really up?"

Chloe shook her head. "What have you been up to?" she dodged. "Mexico again?"

"Nah, been hanging out in Europe. String of art robberies I've been tryin' to keep up with."

Chloe arched her brow.

"What?" he asked defensively. "It's not like they're too fast for me. I just never can figure out where they're going to strike next." He looked at her hopefully, and Chloe grinned broadly. It was his way of asking for her help.

"I'll see what I can come up with," she nodded to him, and Bart beamed. Chloe chuckled softly. _One way or another, they all come to me._

"Thanks, Chloelicious. So, the upside of going to Europe is that I found out Spanish food is even better than Mexican. Wanna grab dinner?"

Chloe groaned. "Can't. I've _got _to finish this article," she gestured her computer.

Bart shrugged. "'s cool. I'll get some to go. What do you like? Never mind, I'll figure out what looks best."

"Bart," Chloe asked, spellchecking a word, "you know there's a restaurant-" a gust of wind hit her, "in town?" she finished lamely. He was probably going all the way to Spain, knowing him.

Dinner with Bart was nice. He actually did bring her Spanish food straight from Spain, claiming it was the best there was. It was the best she'd felt in weeks, talking to Bart, getting a proper meal other than Ramen or EasyMac. It was good for her to relax. Since her fight with Oliver, she'd been avoiding her problems with excess work and little sleep. Bart successfully cheered her up and sent her home in time to get a full eight hours. No that she was destined to get that eight hours.

* * *

Chloe shot up in bed and looked at the clock, her heart pounding. It was 1:17 in the morning, and a storm was raging outside. At first she thought it was the thunder that had woken her, until she heard the sound of a muffled voice calling her name and someone beating on her door.

Grabbing her hand gun and throwing a hoodie on over her tank top, she crept down the hall. Gun at the ready, she slowly peaked around the corner to look at the glass door of her balcony, the source of the noise. Chloe nearly screamed as a flash of lightning revealed a man standing out there in the pouring rain, calling out to her.

In the next instant she recognized him. "Oh my God." She dropped the gun and rushed to the door to unlatch the lock.

As soon as the door opened, he stumbled forward and nearly collapsed on her, and Chloe staggered beneath his weight.

"I'm sorry," he tried to stand up again. "You were closer," he gasped.

Chloe felt something hot and sticky on her hand. She lifted her hand from his side and another flash of lightning illuminated a dark red stain on her fingers. "Oh my God," she whispered again. "We need to get you a doctor."

Oliver, even in his state, noticed that she wasn't questioning the fact that he was currently dressed as the Green Arrow, that he'd just appeared on her balcony in the middle of the night, not even what had happened. She was just there, trying to help him. "No doctors," he shook his head, breath ragged as he spoke. "I'd never be able to explain what happened."

Chloe bit her lip. He was right. "Okay, just lie down and keep your eyes open. Breathe through your nose." She helped him down and took off the sweatshirt again, pillowing it under his head. Instantly she rose to hit the light switch and rushed to grab a towel from her bathroom. When she returned she tried to hide her horror, now able to see the deep gash that had cut through the leather of Oliver's tunic. She knelt beside him and started pressing down on the wound to stop the flow of blood. "Ollie, I think you need stitches."

He shook his head. "I'll be fine. Thanks," he muttered, grabbing the towel from her to apply the pressure himself.

Chloe slapped his hand away. She didn't need him using any excess strength. "Stop it. Ollie, what happened?"

"Mugger - didn't realize he had friends. Snuck up on me." He cringed in pain. "Took 'em out, of course," he managed to smirk, "but not before they got a good one in." He was honestly lucky the knife hadn't gone straight into his stomach.

"Okay," she hushed him. "Okay, it's okay. Stop talking."

She closed her eyes. _One day, someday, I'm going to make friends with someone who doesn't risk his or her life on a daily basis_, she internally promised herself.

All night long Chloe looked after him. Eventually he managed to persuade her to clean and bandage up the wound herself rather than calling for professional help, and against her better judgement, she gave in. She knew Oliver had personal doctors and would eventually have someone qualified take a look at it and stitch it up. It was just that they couldn't afford to take him to the emergency room. It would draw too much speculation.

She managed to move him to the couch after she was finished, and it was there she found herself at 4 in the morning. She'd been afraid to let him go to sleep immediately after all the blood he'd lost, so she had sat by him the last few hours talking to him, or, rather, listening to him talk.

"Chloe, have I mentioned the part where I'm sorry?"

She rolled her eyes, clutching a cup of hot coffee, the only thing really keeping her awake at that point. "Stop apologizing. I don't want to talk about it."

"You really don't believe me, do you?"

She wasn't looking at him.

"Chloe, I'm telling you, I wasn't using you. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't trying to find the Traveler, but it's not like I was pretending to be friends with you, either. I wouldn't do that to you. I'm not a seventh grader."

"You should rest," she said abruptly, rising. "I think you'll be okay to actually get some sleep now," she said, glancing at the clock. "We can talk later."

He thought she was about to abandon him when he really couldn't even get up to chase after her, but she stopped for a moment. Looking down at him, she leaned over and cupped his face in her hand. Softly she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I know you're sorry. Thanks for trusting me."

Because he had. In spite of everything else he'd screwed up, everything he'd done to hurt her, when he was in trouble, he'd trusted her enough to come to her, to let her find out that he was the Green Arrow. It was something few others had done willingly.


	14. Ch 13: Marion to the Rescue

**Chapter 13:**

**Marion to the Rescue**

Chloe woke the next morning to Bart waving coffee under her nose. "Wake up, mamacita. I have coffeeeee."

Chloe's eyes opened weakly and she realized she ought to have been up half an hour ago. It was already a quarter to seven. She groaned. Then suddenly she shot up in bed, startling even Bart.

"Oliver," she whispered.

"Um, no. Bart. Remember? The love of your life," Bart joked.

Chloe shook her head, muttering something under her breath and pushing past him to her living room, but the couch was empty. He was gone. She shook her head.

"_Idiot," _she muttered.

"Um, 'licious?" Bart was waving his hand in front of Chloe's eyes. "What's going on?"

Getting a grip on herself, Chloe smiled at him. "Nothing. Coffee, huh? Thanks, Bart." She pecked his cheek, sending him into a broad grin. "Hey, Can I ask a favor? I'm running late, and-"

"You want me to give you a ride? No problemo, Senorita."

"You're the best, Bart."

* * *

At work, Chloe had been dealing with...some issues. There was a reason everyone she worked with was still convinced she and Oliver had been romantically involved.

Everyday since Christmas, he'd been sending her flowers with apology notes. It was a bit much. And had she been willing to speak to him at all, she would have told him to cut it out a long time ago. She wasn't exactly the kind of girl to be won over by flowers. Instead, she'd chosen to hope that eventually the steady flow of floral arrangements would cease of their own accord.

...not that that had stopped her from watering ever bouquet everyday. She'd had to start handing them out to other women when she ran out of desk space.

The day after Oliver had staggered into her apartment, dripping blood across her floor, Chloe did not find a vase of flowers on her desk, though. Instead she found a small rectangular package wrapped in brown paper, a card taped to it.

Chloe smirked when she saw that it was sealed, unlike all the apology notes that had come with the flowers. She had mentioned Annette to Oliver on more than one occasion, and she figured he knew that Annette opened every card before Chloe arrived at work. He'd probably hoped that Annette would take his side up and plead his case. And he'd been right of course.

Sitting down, she opened the card and read:

_Chloe,_

_I know you're still angry, but we should talk._

_I wanted you to have this after what happened. It inspired me when I was a kid, and I guess it's my way of thanking you for being there for me._

_-Oliver_

Brow cinched, Chloe took up the package and pulled the paper off of it. Then she smiled softly, shaking her head. _Of course_.

It was a book, an old one. It had a hardcover with gold and green embossment illustrating it, a picture of a man clad in green shooting a bow and arrow on the front. She opened it and flipped gently through its worn, yellowed pages, their corners rounded with use.

"_The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood." Naturally._

She shook her head, her hand moving for her cell phone. Just as she was about to dial the first digit, however, she stopped short.

What exactly was she going to say? _Hi, Ollie. Even though you're stalking my best friend, I completely forgive you. Now we can put all this behind us._

Even in her head it sounded irrational and stupid. She put her phone back and carefully slipped the book into her bag before anyone could question her about it. (Out of the corner of her eye she could see Annette fidgeting in her seat.) She would talk to Oliver eventually. As soon as she figured out her own thoughts.

* * *

A week passed and Chloe still hadn't spoken to him. The flowers had stopped, thankfully, but she took their absence to mean he was waiting for her to make the next move. She was being a coward, she knew, but she just didn't know what she wanted anymore. It wasn't that she hadn't forgiven him; she knew she had the moment he appeared on her balcony, if not long before that. She just couldn't work up the courage to make herself vulnerable for him.

However, at the end of the week, fate decided to force her hand. She was pulling another late night, and had the police scanner on again when it happened.

"_I've got a report of a break-in. A hooded figure was seen climbing onto the balcony of the Queen penthouse on 42nd."_

Chloe choked on her coffee, nearly spraying it across a number of files on her desk.

"_This is car 32. I'm in the area. I'll check it out. Should be there in a couple of minutes."_

Chloe swore. "Idiot." Panicking, she grabbed her cell phone. It rang twice before a familiar gust of wind sent her papers flying.

"Hola, 'licious! Wh - "

"No time, Bart," Chloe interrupted. She'd called him rather than Clark, knowing her caring farmboy would waste too much time asking questions. "I need a ride. Emergency." She gave him Oliver's address and apartment number.

Before she knew what was happening she was at Oliver's door. "Thanks, Bart. I'll explain later, but you'd better get out of here." Slipping out the key she still carried, she felt her hair flutter with Bart's disappearance. Nervously, she fumbled with the lock on the door, hearing the sound of the elevator rising.

Heart pounding, Chloe burst into Oliver's apartment.

Oliver, hood thrown back, looked up in surprise. "Chloe?" Relief washed over him at the sight of her before instantly being replaced by concern. She looked panicked, she was surveying him with wide, 'Oliver, you idiot,' eyes, and she appeared to be forming some sort of plan.

Hearing the sound of footsteps outside, Chloe seemed to make a frantic decision, marched across the apartment, pushed him back on his desk and kneeled on it to straddle him.

"What th - "

"Shut up and make sure you let me do the talking."

Before Oliver could ask what was going on, she was kissing him. Not just kissing him, but full-on making out with him. For a wild instant, Oliver thought he had slipped into another dream, although those had stopped after he'd seen her a week ago. Automatically, one of his hands threaded into her hair and the other went to her lower back, dragging her closer.

The next instant someone else had burst into his apartment. Oliver, mouth still latched with Chloe's, looked wide-eyed past her at a pair of police officers, who were clearing their throats uncomfortably as Chloe continued kissing him.

A moment later Chloe 'noticed them' and pulled away from him and turned to face the officers. She feigned a surprised look and slid off of Oliver to stand. Oliver followed suit, nervously running a hand through his hair in confusion, all too aware of the fact that he was still in costume.

"Forgive the - erm - intrusion, sir. There was a report of a possible break-in at your apartment. Do you mind if we check the place o - over?" Both of them suddenly appeared to have noticed that Oliver was dressed as the Green Arrow.

Chloe, to Oliver's total shock, giggled nervously. "A break-in? Oh my god," she shifted closer to Oliver, as if expecting him to do something in response. When he didn't - clearly too surprised to play the part of protective boyfriend - she continued unfazed, "Of course you can look the place over. Right, _dear_?"

Oliver nodded.

The two cops didn't move, both still staring at Oliver. "Is there - " the second cop cleared his throat, staring awkwardly, "a - ah - _reason_ you're - um - _dressed_ like that, sir?"

Oliver's mouth opened slightly, although he had no idea what he was going to say, but Chloe intervened before he could make any attempt. Her face bright red - and he honestly couldn't tell whether she had actually summoned up a blush to make her act more believable or not - she giggled again and slid her hand up his arm. "This?" she asked. "We were - um - " she sounded incredibly embarrassed and shy " - you _know_," she looked back and forth between the two policemen conspiratorially.

They stared back blankly.

"_Role-playing_," she whispered dramatically.

Oliver thought the ground was going to swallow him whole, and the police looked sufficiently embarrassed beyond all reason.

_Which is nothing to how I feel_, Chloe thought ruefully.

The men searched the apartment and eventually gave them an all-clear. To which Chloe gratefully responded, "Oh, thank you so much. You're sure it's safe?"

Neither of them seemed to be capable of looking her in the eye. One of them gruffly answered, "Yes, ma'am. You've got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, folks."

"Goodnight, officers. Thank you again."

The door closed and Oliver turned to gape at Chloe.

"_Role-playing?"_

She smirked contritely and shrugged. "I was improvising."

"My PR agent is going to murder me this time tomorrow."

"She isn't the only one," Chloe said, walking over to face him. Looking him squarely in the eyes, she slapped him smartly across the face.

He looked at her in shock. "What the hell was _that_ for?"

"You earned it, you imbecile. One of your neighbors reported seeing 'a hooded figure' climbing into your apartment. Lucky for you, I had the police scanner on. Do you have any idea how sloppy that was? You could have been arrested! The Green Arrow isn't exactly the police department's mascot. God, you are so lucky I got here in time! What would you have done if they'd burst in here and you were alone? You'd never have been able to explain this. Besides that, what are you even doing out? You were bleeding to death in my apartment seven days ago! Have you completely lost your mind? You're going to get yourself killed."

Oliver was smirking at her.

"Wipe that stupid look off of your face and say something for yourself!"

"I missed you, too."

Chloe gaped at him.

"So you had five seconds to save my ass, and the best plan you could come up with was making out with me? I have to say, I like the way your mind works."

Glaring at him, Chloe's voice took on a threatening tone. "Ever mention this again, and Laura Queen will suddenly become very enlightened about her son's late night activities."

Oliver's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

She quirked an eyebrow, daring him to test her.

"Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad. Personally, I was a little caught off guard, so I can't say I was up to my usual game, but from my end it was fairly pleasant."

Chloe pulled out her cell phone and started dialing his mother.

"Chloe!" he said, shocked. "Come on, I was kidding. Take a joke," he said, chasing her around the island in his kitchen. Eventually he tackled her to the floor and pried the phone from her hand, mostly because she was overcome with giggles and therefore unable to defend herself. "You can have this back later," he said, pocketing the device with a grin and helping her up.

"You are going to pull your stitches out," Chloe sighed wearily, resigning herself.

"And you are going to lose your mind if you think you can look after me."

She shook her head at him as he helped her up.

"Thanks, Chloe," he said seriously. "You saved my neck. Again."

She shrugged. "It's what I do. _Apparently_," she added with a grimace, walking over to his couch to sit down.

Oliver followed her and leaned over the back of the couch to look down at her. She looked tired. Dark circles graced her bloodshot eyes, and her skin was pale. Her body looked fragile and weak. "Not sleeping much?"

She shook her head.

"Yeah, me neither." He paused. "Chloe - "

"Attempt to explain yourself one more time, and I will walk out of this apartment," Chloe warned. Then her face softened. "Look, I'm just chalking it up to you being an idiot and leaving it at that. Why don't you tell me what you really want to know about Clark, and handle this the way you should have in the first place?"

Oliver studied her. Then, at length, he spoke. "Is he the traveler?"

Chloe bit her lip, not certain it was her place to answer that question. "Say he were. Hypothetically. What do you want with him?" Chloe asked.

"Do you know about Veritas?"

She frowned and he took that to be a no.

"It was a group of people who were supposed to be dedicated to helping Clark. My parents were among them. So was Lionel Luthor and - "

"The Teagues and the Swanns," Chloe finished suddenly, a look of revelation dawning on her face.

He nodded. "Lionel had them killed off. He went after my parents, too, but fortunately, they were okay."

Chloe suddenly remembered the night when Oliver had pinned Lionel Luthor against a wall, accusing him of attempting to murder Mr. and Mrs. Queen. "But," she started, her frown deepening, "what's he playing at?"

"What do you think? He's a Luthor. He wants to be the one to influence Clark for his own purposes, and he doesn't want anyone else to interfere."

"Naturally," Chloe muttered bitterly. With a sigh, she added, "I'm going to have to talk to C - _him_ about all of this. What about your parents?" she asked abruptly, looking back up at Oliver. "What do all of you crazy rich people want with my hypothetical best friend anyway?"

Oliver mocked a hurt expression. "I thought _I_ was your best friend."

She rolled her eyes.

"My parents have no idea I know about any of this. From what I understand, though, most of what they would have liked to have done has been handled already."

"Meaning?"

"Clark was raised by a couple of really good people from what you told me. He grew up into the proverbial 'nice young man' or whatever."

Chloe's lips tugged into a small smile. It was true. "So now?" she pressed.

He shrugged. "To let him know he's got friends. He'd have access to all our resources, help whenever he needs it, although," a twinkle lit his eye as he looked at Chloe, "I'd say he's had plenty of help so far."

Chloe's cheeks burned but she dismissed the compliment. "I'm his friend - "

"Hypothetically."

" - What else am I supposed to do?"

"Which is why I _have_ to ask: have you ever made out with him in the name of justice? Or am I just special?"

Chloe smirked evilly. "Like I'd tell you."

His brow lifted suspiciously. "Oh my god, you have."

"Well," Chloe shrugged noncommittally, "not exactly in the name of justice, per se..."

Oliver's jaw dropped. "Okay, I just became jealous."

She laughed.

"So," Oliver transitioned awkwardly. "You get the book?"

Her laughter softened and she smiled up at him. "Yeah. It's amazing. I didn't need flowers or gifts, though, Oliver."

"You weren't taking my calls," he reminded her.

"I was angry."

"But you're not now?" he asked tentatively, his voice hopeful.

She sighed. "I don't know. I guess not. I'm upset that once again C - _he's_ influenced yet another aspect of my life, even if it's not his fault - it almost never is. One of the minor benefits of moving out here was to put a little distance between myself and all things hero-related." She glanced at his leather outfit ruefully. "But I guess some things are not meant to be."

"That reminds me, did you seriously tell the Green Lantern to call you when he ended up needing your help?"

"You know him?" she asked eagerly.

Oliver nodded, disliking her excitement. "Yeah. Why?"

"He was hot."

"Oh was he?" Oliver mocked, rolling his eyes before lunging at her and wrestling her off the couch. "Woman, you have got to stop throwing yourself at masked vigilantes. It's not a healthy habit."

She rolled her eyes, futilely trying to push him off of her even though he had her wrists pinned to the floor.

"By the way," he said, grinning at her. "I hope you know that tonight's little adventure officially makes you my sidekick, right? I'm thinking we should get you a fun code name and a sexy leather costume to wear."

"I think I'll pass."

"Sorry, team rule," he told her. "Uniform is required."

"What team?" she snarked. "So far it's you and your ego."

"Plus you," he smirked. "And three's company."

"Oh get off," she said, finally catching him off guard enough to roll him off of her, snatching her phone from his back pocket in the process. "You really are going to rip out those stitches, and I need to go finish an article." She pushed up off the floor.

He frowned at her. "Chloe, it's almost midnight. Go home and go to bed."

"Yes, _dear_," she said, and he knew she wasn't going to listen.

He followed her toward the door, a sudden impulse overtaking him. She had the door open when he pulled her to face him and without waiting for his better judgment to return, he leaned down and kissed her, a real kiss for once, not an innocent peck under mistletoe, not feigned face-sucking, but a real, honest, soul-warming kiss that had her lost for words when he pulled back.

"Thanks for everything, Chloe. I really missed you."

A blush was creeping into her cheeks. "W - wh - " she stammered, searching for the words.

He let go of her. "Just wanted to know what it would be like," he said casually, turning away from her to head back and change out of his costume.

His response seemed to return her senses. "Because obviously you had _no_ idea?" she laughed after him.

He lifted a shoulder, glancing back at her. "First two didn't count."


	15. Ch 14: Another Visit From John Little

**Author's Comment: All right, here's the thing: the next couple of chapters are...dragging. I think (and hope) that they are still entertaining, but I also hope you'll forgive the lull in the overall plot line and just bear with me. Thanks once again for all the great feedback!**

**Much Love,**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

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**Chapter 14:**

**Another Visit From John Little**

After that night, things got...out of hand, in Chloe's opinion. In Oliver's opinion, they were going exactly the way they should be.

Chloe's return into Oliver's life after a month and a half of absence was not only noted by several gossip-mongering magazines - whose speculations on the rift ranged from a secret affair to the realization first that Chloe _was_ a gold-digger and then (in order to explain their sudden amends) that she _was not_ a gold digger - but also celebrated immensely by Oliver's parents.

Chloe's intention was to pretend nothing had happened, that they had both just been busy. The magazines' intentions were to pretend that it was the most exciting thing in the world because in their eyes nothing sold better than scandal (forget that somewhere in Europe Bart had managed to hang several infamous art thieves from a giant chandelier in the middle of the museum they'd broken into). Robert and Laura Queen's intention appeared to be to make sure that Chloe had neither the desire nor the means to ever run off like that again.

"Chloe, love," Laura said to her over the phone within three days of Chloe's rescue-Oliver-from-himself-mission. "I'm putting together a luncheon for some old friends. I'd love to have you over to help me test the menu out."

Strategically, Chloe thought, as she tasted her fiftieth kind of sandwich the next day, it was all somewhat brilliant. In order to prevent Chloe from leaving, she would simply make her love Oliver's parents as much as humanly possible, and then be sure to make her feel guilty about staying away for too long. This way, she would not, in good conscience, be able to go more than thirty-six hours without having some sort of contact with at least one of Oliver's parents. It was masterful, really, she sighed.

Laura Queen was a woman who knew what she liked. For some reason that Chloe had yet to fully comprehend, Laura had decided that she liked Chloe. Maybe she thought Chloe was a good influence on Oliver, since Chloe was so different from the socialites Oliver normally surrounded himself with. She supposed she was, in Mrs. Queen's eyes, _wholesome_.

Robert Queen, too, had formed an inexplicable attachment to Chloe. Nearly every time his wife invited Chloe over for anything now, he spontaneously popped up. He would talk to Chloe about world news, business, whatever happened to intrigue or amuse him that day. To Chloe's hidden astonishment, he hung on her every word. He waited and listened to her responses, totally captured by whatever she had to say, pleased when she agreed with him, and happily surprised when she disagreed, but always amused by her energy and passion over every opinion.

And then there was Oliver.

Yes, Oliver.

Oliver Queen.

_What the hell is he up to?_ Chloe thought vehemently. A week after kissing her at complete random - never mind the fact that she had kicked off that evening by throwing herself at him-Oliver was still acting oddly. They were attending a birthday party for one of the Robert Queen's business associates, a man who was also an old family friend, apparently, and Oliver had invited Chloe as his date.

In and of itself, that was nothing very extraordinary. Chloe had been Oliver's 'date' countless times, except that, as she had so articulately explained to Bruce Wayne one evening, she wasn't a real date. There wasn't supposed to be a romantic obligation from either party.

Oliver hadn't _said_ anything to alter that arrangement. By all reasonable standards, that should mean that everything was exactly the way she'd left it Christmas Eve, and yet it just wasn't.

Everything was different because Oliver was different. He rarely allowed her to split away from him for more than a moment or two. While he wasn't controlling enough to stop her from dancing with someone else if she wanted to, he always appeared at the end of the song to whisk her away again. And he kept...well, _touching_ her.

Chloe knew it wasn't that drastic. She was sure he'd done it before, even, although she honestly couldn't remember when, but for whatever reason, Oliver's hand on the small of her back, the pad of his thumb softly brushing back and forth in a soothing, absent manner, had her stomach doing acrobatics. She knew they'd danced together infinite times, and perhaps it was all in her imagination, but she was certain he was holding her ever so slightly closer than he used to at the moment, and his hand seemed to have something entirely unrelated to friendship on its mind when it took hold of her own.

When he leaned over to whisper something to her, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear and she had to battle against the immediate shivers he sent down her spine. Did that used to happen? She was sure it hadn't. For the life of her, though, she couldn't be absolutely certain that Oliver's lips had never come into contact with her ear before.

And then he was looking at her differently. Ever since she'd laughed at him and said how silly it was to wonder what it was like to kiss her, and he'd responded "The first two didn't count," she'd seen it. There was just something..._there_, something in the glint of his eyes when he looked at her, something that seemed to go hand in hand with his charming yet arrogant smirk so well it was maddening. And it kept focusing on her.

"Chloe?"

"Hmm?" she squeaked, realizing she'd been counting the number of times his thumb had moved over her dress since he placed his hand on her back. Thirty-nine -

"I asked if you wanted something to drink."

Forty. "Oh," she said, startled. "Oh, right. A drink. Yes, a drink would be wonderful." _Bring the bottle, why don't you?_

Oliver grinned at her before heading to find a waiter. As soon as she couldn't see his face, he felt the smirk fall in place.

She really was being ridiculous. He didn't see what was so difficult to grasp about the situation, honestly.

Oliver had finally put a few pieces together in the Chloe Sullivan puzzle. First, he realized that he was unaccountably fortunate for listening to her the first time they had danced and not flirting with her. Second, he had realized that he was undeniably stupid for listening to her the first time they danced and not flirting with her.

He was fortunate because Chloe didn't trust people, not immediately, and she especially didn't trust people who made romantic advances on her. In his ability to convince her that he didn't mind just being friends, he had ensured that she became comfortable around him, and coincidentally brought into his life a friend and relationship that he valued above almost anything else.

He was undeniably stupid, because he had fallen into her trap, the proverbial safe zone where he wasn't allowed to do anything that might jeopardize 'the friendship.' It was clever, really. By placing him in the category of friend, she successfully guaranteed that any movement towards something other than friendship could be treated with utter confusion and essentially thought of as absurd.

And yet, he wasn't worried. Being friends with Chloe meant he had the upper hand. He was in past all the barriers and guards that she put up for other men. She was comfortable around him, trusted him (thank God), cared about him, and had become irrevocably attached to having him in her life. After a month and a half of not speaking to each other, Chloe had informed him that if he ever did it again, she might have to move back to Metropolis and live with Lois just so she would have someone 'remotely sane' to talk to again.

"_Lois is sane?"_

"_My other options are Annette, Leanne, and Jeremy. And Leanne falls under your territory, so really it's just Annette and Jeremy."_

"_You're right. Lois _is_ your only sane friend. Although personally, I don't think it's Jeremy's fault he doesn't do girl talk..."_

The important thing was that he was perfectly positioned to ease her into the idea of the two of them as more than just friends. He'd thought about it carefully- -had had no choice but to do so, actually, as he hadn't slept at all the night after she walked into his apartment and started making out with her- -and he realized the key was to be stealthy about it. If he just suddenly threw at her that he wanted to date her, she'd laugh in his face, or worse, run like mad in the opposite direction. So instead, he was...well, for lack of a better word, _seducing _her. Slowly but surely, step by step he was introducing the idea into her mind until eventually it wouldn't seem so ludicrous to her anymore.

He picked up the drinks from the waiter and returned to find Chloe the object-yet again-of another man's attention. Ryker Davis, a Queen Industries executive, was chatting her up. Oliver watched with an eyebrow quirked as he made Chloe laugh, thinking like an amateur that he was in until he made the rookie mistake of touching her arm, causing Chloe to subtly draw back, just like she was always did.

Grinning to himself, he was about to swoop in to her rescue, when someone else did it for him. Oliver nearly dropped the martini glasses in surprise.

"Hey, beautiful," Hal said, sliding his hand confidently over her shoulder. "Davis," he greeted the other man. Then he turned back to Chloe. "Darling, I've been looking all over for you. I don't know how you managed to slip off without my noticing."

Oliver rolled his eyes. Ryker Davis merely looked confused. "Jordan. I didn't realize you were here."

"Just in town for a couple of days. Had to spend some time with my favorite girl and all."

Chloe, meanwhile, was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Ryker didn't notice, but said something vague about seeing someone vague before vaguely excusing himself.

Hal's arm stayed around Chloe's shoulder and she raised a questioning eyebrow at him as Oliver approached them. "Miss me, Miss Sullivan?" Hal asked cheekily.

"Seeing as she probably has no idea who you are, I doubt it," Oliver suggested lightly, eyeing Hal's hand on Chloe's shoulder until he dropped it.

"Oh right. Mask. Duh."

Chloe stared at him.

Oliver sighed. "Chloe, this is Hal Jordan."

Chloe extended her hand politely, and Hal kissed it in the same fashion Bruce Wayne so often did. "H-have we met?" Chloe asked, trying valiantly not to show how confused she was.

"Yes," Hal said.

"No," Oliver replied simultaneously.

Chloe looked bemused.

"I believe your exact words were, 'Unlike normal people, who have every reason to be grateful for people like you, I just end up having my life unbearably complicated by your existence,' or something to that effect anyway," he grinned at her, taking the martinis off Oliver's hands and handing her one before taking a sip of the other for himself.

Chloe was frowning at him before understanding suddenly washed over her. Her mouth opened slightly.

"I tend to have that effect," he joked.

"Chloe, Hal is an old friend. He's also-"

"The Green Lantern," Chloe finished.

"Good memory," Hal nodded approvingly. "I see you didn't tell her _everyone's_ secret then, Ollie. Just yours?" he asked, eyebrows up.

Oliver was still trying to figure out what Hal was doing there. "Why are you here?" he asked finally, giving up all semblance of subtlety.

"Glad you asked," Hal said, raising his drink to Oliver. "I like that about him," he mentioned to Chloe. "Very direct. To the point. Never wastes time - "

"Like you're doing now?" Oliver asked amusedly.

Chloe giggled, and Oliver placed his hand on her waist. Hal noticed. "Glad to see you two have made up from your little lover's spat, then. In the future," he stage-whispered to Chloe, "call me. I'll give you something embarrassing to blackmail him with until he admits you're right."

Chloe laughed, she was beginning to like this man.

"Hal," Oliver dragged him back to business. "Not that I'm not always thrilled to see you or anything - "

"Which you're not for once," Hal joked. He could tell Oliver was less than pleased.

" - but why exactly _are _you here again?"

"Needed some help. She offered," he defended at the surprised look on Oliver's face.

"Beg pardon?"

"Look, this is a party. I don't make business propositions at parties. It's bad for my health. Why don't we all do dinner or something? I imagine you won't let me take her alone, so you can come along, too, kiddo," he joked to Oliver.

"Need my help with what?" Chloe asked.

"Later," Hal said. "For now," he set his drink aside and offered his hand to Chloe, "would you like to dance?"

Chloe couldn't help it. She grinned, sending Oliver a helpless look as she placed her hand in Hal's and allowed herself to be carried away.

"What's the Jordan boy doing here?" asked a surprised voice.

Oliver turned to see his father and shrugged. "What's he ever doing? Passing through, stopped by to see me."

Robert shook his head. "That boy's a test pilot isn't he? I didn't realize his job required so much travel."

Oliver decided it was wisest not to respond directly. "How's Richard?" he asked, referring to the man whose party it was.

"Fine, fine. Son, may I be so bold as to do the thing that every child hopes his parent will never do?"

"What's that, Dad?" Oliver asked, amused more than concerned.

"Ask you a direct question."

Oliver chuckled. "Go for it."

"Are you _doing_ anything where _that's_ concerned?" he asked, nodding in Chloe and Hal's direction.

Oliver tried not to choke in surprise. "Working on it," he said, half coughing, half laughing the words as he turned to his father in surprise.

"Good," he said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder as the two of them watched Chloe dance with Hal, laughing at something he said to her. "Because I'd hate to have to disown you. Enjoy the party," he added carelessly, slipping back into the fray.

* * *

"Chloe, you look stunning," Hal greeted Chloe a day later, rising from his chair as Oliver and Chloe approached the table.

"Thank you," she smiled graciously, sitting down in the chair Oliver pulled out for her. "So what is it I can do for you, Hal?" she asked, leaning toward him to rest her chin on her hand after their waitress walked away from taking their orders.

He smirked at Oliver. "You two really are a match made in Heaven. There's never any small talk with you two." He shook his head, sighing. "And didn't I tell you she wouldn't mind helping?" he added smugly, in response to Oliver's attempts over the past few hours to drag out of him what it was he wanted from Chloe. Oliver just wanted to be sure Hal wasn't going to drag Chloe into something she shouldn't get involved with.

"Just get on with it, Hal."

"Fine. But only because she asked nicely." He smirked and Oliver rolled his eyes. He was sure Hal was being an ass on purpose. "Look, I have to leave the planet for a couple of weeks and - "

Chloe choked on her wine. Her eyebrows shot up at Hal.

" - and I need someone to create a convincing cover-story for my boss and whatnot. Carol's been getting more and more suspicious of all my absences, and I want to make sure I've got an air-tight alibi this time. Someone told me you were the person to talk to." He looked to Chloe.

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. "Who?"

He grinned. "Guy I met in Metropolis. We've helped each other out a couple of times now and he recommended. Said you were good with this kind of thing."

Chloe shook her head, stifling a small laugh. She was sure there was a lot more to the story than that. Clark didn't just hand out her business card. She'd have to ask him about it sometime.

Finally Chloe nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem. Where would you like to have your imaginary vacation?"

"So you can really do that?"

"This from the man who says he's leaving the planet in a couple of days," Chloe laughed.

"Where exactly _are _you going?" Oliver followed up, eyes narrowing.

"Nowhere that you guys have heard of or need to worry about. The Corps is getting irritated with me for sticking around my home planet so much. I need to do a few rounds to keep everyone happy."

Chloe stared. "Obviously there's a big long backstory I'm missing here."

"I'll write you a letter while I'm gone. But only if you promise to write back," he added teasingly.

Chloe shook her head. "Aliens."

"I'll have you know that I, personally, am not an alien."

She laughed. "I remember. You told me the first time we met. That's really all you need, though?" she asked more seriously.

"That's all I need, beautiful. Just a cover-story so no one wonders where I've run off to."

"Well that much I can definitely do for you." She was smirking.

"What?" Oliver asked.

Chloe just sighed as their food was brought to them. "One way or another, they all come to me."

* * *

Later that evening, Chloe was allowing Oliver to take her back to his place. Staying the night at Oliver's was nothing exceptional. She'd done it dozens of times in the past year. Since parting ways with Hal, though, Oliver had begun teasing her about being a sidekick, again, and Chloe was about ready to clobber him.

"Aw, come on, I think it's cute," he teased, arm around her waist affectionately. He squeezed her into his side slightly. "Although I still insist we come up with a costume design. You know you want one."

"Hmm, unlike you," she said in the elevator, "I do not have a fetish for leather. I think I'm good."

"Admit you think the costume is sexy," he said.

"Fine. The costume is sexy. Now if we could just do something about finding someone sexy enough to wear it."

He gave her a hurt look as she made her way to the guest bedroom where some of her clothes were still waiting for her from before their fight. "Ouch. That one cuts me deep."

"Good. Your ego is in desperate need of deflation."

"Oh, Sidekick. We both know you secretly love me."

"Would you quit calling me Sidekick?" she called from her room as Oliver loosened his tie.

"No," he called back cockily.

He laughed as he heard her frustrated groan.

"So," he asked when he heard her re-enter the room in her sweats. "Movie?"

"Duh," she said. "Ice cream?"

"I stocked your favorite."

"God, I love you," she said as she opened his freezer and found a pint of mocha almond fudge. She grabbed it and the pint of chocolate for him and pulled a pair of spoons from his drawer before walking over to the couch and sitting down.

Oliver's eyebrows went up when she sat down at the opposite end of the couch from him. She tossed him his ice cream and pulled her legs up to her chest as though she were making herself as small as possible. She didn't look uncomfortable or anything. Actually, she looked perfectly fine, and if he hadn't been used to her practically lying on top of him for their previous movie nights, he never would have thought anything of it.

Half way through the movie, though, she finished off her ice cream and Oliver could tell she was cold.

"All right," he said, "that's enough." He paused the movie.

She looked up. "What?"

"You're freezing."

"I'm...chilly."

He rolled his eyes, laughing at her. "You just ate half a pint of ice cream and you have goose bumps. C'mere." He grabbed her and pulled her over so that she was between his legs, back resting against his chest. "Better?" he asked, smirking at the way her tense muscles instantly relaxed.

"Maybe," she admitted grudgingly as he put the movie back on, a smile tugging at her lips as she snuggled into him. Then she felt his lips press against the top of her head and the smile slipped to be replaced by a blush.

"Good."


	16. Ch 15: Winning the Lady's Favor

**Author's Comment: Well, I apologize in advance. I probably won't get anything out over the next couple of days. On the bright side, not only is this chapter longer than usual, it's also the one most of you have been waiting for (although possibly subject to revisions-I'm not totally satisfied with the ending). Enjoy!**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

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**Chapter 15:**

**Winning the Lady's Favor**

When spring rolled around, Chloe's level of panic had dramatically decreased. It had become obvious that Oliver wasn't going to push her into anything she didn't want. She'd convinced herself that as long as she continued as she was, Oliver would eventually get bored with the idea and give up, not that it ever occurred to her _why_ she wanted him to give up. If she ever stopped to question that, she wouldn't have been able to come with an answer.

Oliver, on the other hand, was confident that if he continued exactly as he was, Chloe would eventually give up and give in. Every day he watched as she weakened slightly.

Like now, for instance. They were at a Rockets game, and Chloe was having a great time. She was saying something to him. He should probably be listening. He should definitely not be staring at the smudge of mustard just to the right of her lip. He should absolutely be listening to her.

"_Oliver!"_

He blinked and laughed. "Sorry. You've just - you've got this - " he chuckled and wiped the mustard away with his thumb.

She sighed. "Next time I'm letting Jeremy be my date. Do you know he almost cried when he found out I had these seats? Press passes don't generally get you right behind the plate." She glanced across the stadium and spotted Jeremy's baseball cap where he was taking photographs dutifully.

"Yeah, but you don't get to make out with Jeremy afterwards."

"I'm not making out with _you_ afterwards, either."

He grinned at her. "We'll see."

Chloe rolled her eyes, laughing and shoving him away from her.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I said I got the pitcher to agree to interview with me after the game. And the coach was telling me that apparently they're working on some sort of charity with your parents? How come neither of them told me about it?"

Oliver shrugged. "It'll probably come up eventually. I'm surprised it hadn't already."

Chloe stared at him.

"What?"

"_You knew about it?" _ She threw her napkin at him. "Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"You didn't ask," he said, throwing his hands up defensively.

"God, what good is it being friends with you people, anyway?" she teased.

"I knew you only kept me around for my money," he said as their eyes turned back to the field and the next inning began.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, "I keep you around for your parents' connections. _Usually_," she added resentfully.

He ruffled her hair in retaliation.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" she asked condescendingly, smoothing her hair out again.

He stole her last bite of hot dog from her fingers and popped it in his mouth. "Nope," he said with his mouth full.

Chloe rolled her eyes and turned back to the game. "You're buying me another one, you know."

"On it," he grinned, already waving the vendor over.

* * *

After the game, Oliver hung around while Chloe first spoke with the coach and then with the pitcher, Seth Daniels.

When Chloe came back to find him for her ride home, he noticed her face was bright pink.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," she said quickly. She glanced over her shoulder and Oliver followed suit where he saw Daniels wave at her and then wink.

He looked at Chloe, who instantly turned around, cheeks darkening further. Oliver's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Chloe bit her lip. "He..._may_ have asked me out."

Oliver's brow shot up. "Sorry?"

Chloe looked over her shoulder again and then actually giggled slightly. "I don't know. He just asked if I wanted to go to the Make-a-Wish ball with him - which apparently is the charity ball that none of you told me about. I can't believe you didn't tell me that you were raising money for a bunch of kids to come out to play in a Rockets game."

"Well, technically, only one of the kids is going to 'play.' The rest of his little league friends are just getting to hang out in the dugout during the game. Can we get back to the part where he asked you out? What did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it. He gave me his number, and I figured I'd rather try meeting him for something small like coffee first, you know?"

Oliver was staring at her.

"What?" she asked, uncomfortable under his gaze.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you're actually thinking about going out with this guy?"

"I said I might. I don't know. I'm thinking about it - would you stop looking at me like I just said I'm killing puppies for a hobby now?" she demanded as they approached his car.

He shook himself. "I'm sorry, you just...I mean, you normally don't give guys like that the time of day."

"Guys like what?" she asked, in the car now.

"The male kind," he laughed. "Seriously, when was the last time a guy hit on you and you didn't turn him down in five seconds flat?"

Chloe shrugged evasively. "I don't know."

"I'll answer that for you, then. You haven't been on a date since we met, and from what I've gathered, even before that it had still been a while."

Chloe didn't say anything, and Oliver felt a small amount of anxiety building up.

"You like him then?"

"I guess. I don't know. He was cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah, cute. As in, not repulsive. Like, he was attractive and he made me laugh."

"Right." There was a long, awkward pause. "So are you going to go with him? To the fundraiser, I mean. Because - "

"I-don't-_know_, Oliver. Jeez, how many times do I have to say it?"

"Sorry, I'm just wondering. Because, I mean, I was sort of counting on us going together, but if you want to go with - "

"You were? Okay, well then I'll tell him no. Really, I'd rather go with you, anyway. I don't even know him."

_Leave it at that. Leave it at that. Take what you can get and run with it._ "Well not if you want to go with this guy, though. I mean, I can get a date. We just usually do this stuff together, but if you like him..." he trailed off uncertainly.

Chloe fidgeted. "I don't know."

"You keep saying that. What does that mean?"

"Are you _serious_?" Chloe turned to stare at him like he was a complete imbecile.

"Sorry."

* * *

Chloe never told Oliver whether she called the stupid lemming - as he'd been referring to Seth Daniels in his mind - but he realized he had to step his game up.

Chloe, personally, was staring at the phone number, which was stuck to her fridge, on an almost daily basis, trying to make up her mind to call him.

"What's the big deal?" she asked at the end of the week. "Hi, Seth. You want to do coffee? I mean, how hard is that?" she demanded.

Leanne, sitting at her desk, shook her head. "Beats me. I mean, I'd call him in a heart beat. Then again, I don't have at least two billionaires hanging at my fingertips." She sighed dreamily.

"Okay, Bruce and I don't actually have a thing for each other," Chloe responded irritably. She was waiting outside Robert Queen's office to get a brief quote from him on the Make-a-Wish deal, and in the meantime she was chatting with Leanne, a fairly common occurrence.

"I notice how you completely neglect to defend yourself against the other drop-dead-gorgeous, incredibly wealthy man in your life," she said, eyebrow raised as she typed something into her computer.

Chloe sighed, staring at the ceiling. "That's the thing. I mean, technically, there's nothing going on with me and Ollie. But at the same time - "

"You feel guilty about going out with someone other than him?" Leanne suggested.

Chloe glared.

"What? I'm just sayin'. We both know it's true, whether you're willing to admit to it or not."

"Okay, maybe it's ever so slightly true. I mean, he's...we're...I don't know," she sighed finally. "It's like you said. I feel a little bit guilty considering going out with someone else, which is ridiculous," she added, "because I have every right so see whomever I want."

"Having the right to see other men doesn't mean you actually want the right to see other men," Leanne offered sagely.

Chloe stared at her.

"What? I sit in here all day and take phone calls. What do you think I do with my down time?" She turned her computer to show she was logged into the website for a woman's magazine.

Chloe laughed. "All these months I had my own dating guru and I didn't even know it."

"Yeah, well," she studied her fingernails vainly, "What can I say? Is it my fault you take more than just Oliver Queen for granted?"

"I need to introduce you to my cousin sometime. You two would get along."

"Can I assume that was a compliment?"

"Coming from me, probably."

"Well, anyway, are you going to call Mr. I'm-A-Gorgeous-Male-Athlete-In-His-Prime-And-I-Have-Great-Biceps?"

Chloe heaved another sigh. "I guess not."

"Uh huh. And are you going to stop stringing along Mr. I'm-Incredibly-Hot-And-Even-If-I-Weren't-Rich-Women-Would-Still-Throw-Themselves-At-Me?"

Chloe laughed. "I haven't been stringing him along!"

Leanne arched her brow but said nothing, staring at her computer.

"...intentionally."

Leanne nodded, still not looking up.

"I don't know. I mean, it's not like he hasn't had a million opportunities to make a move. Maybe he's not - "

Leanne scoffed.

Chloe stopped. Who was she kidding? "Right. Well, I guess if Oliver decides he wants to make a move, actually, you know, _do_ something, then I won't stop him."

She smirked. "How very passive-aggressive of you."

"_Miss Hart? Is Miss Sullivan here?"_ Robert Queen's voice buzzed in, interrupting them.

"Yes, sir."

"_Send her in."_

Leanne looked up to Chloe and smiled.

Chloe was halfway in the door before she glanced back at Leanne. "Um, Leanne?"

"Doctor/Patient confidentiality. Got it," Leanne smirked. "Don't I always?"

Chloe shook her head. "You're a good woman, Leanne."

"So you keep telling me."

* * *

"Miss Sullivan, what a pleasant surprise."

Chloe's eyes closed and she felt her cheeks burn slightly as she turned to see Seth Daniels, looking extremely attractive in a tux. "Oh, Seth! Hi!" she smiled pleasantly at him. "And please, it's Chloe."

"Chloe, then," he grinned. "I'm surprised to see you," he said redundantly, attempting to be subtle about wondering why she was there.

Chloe's blush darkened. _Ollie, where are you?_ "I had-" she swallowed "-someone had already asked me, and I decided it would be impolite to turn him down for another offer." _ Although not as impolite as keeping my date waiting for over an hour._ "I'm sorry I never called," she added.

He nodded. "It's fine. So where is your date this evening?" he asked, noting her obvious lack of company. Chloe had been hovering near the entrance most of the evening, trying not to draw attention to herself.

She shrugged. "Running late, unfortunately. You know businessmen. They never stop working. What about you?"

His grin grew embarrassed. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I _am_ a reporter," she joked. "But I'll do my best."

"I took my sister. I knew she was dying to go, and since I didn't hear from you..." he trailed off for her to fill in the blank, and Chloe smiled warmly. It was sweet, though she felt a bit guilty knowing that if she had had the decency to call him he might have had time to find someone else. "Would you like to dance?"

Chloe bit her lip, glancing at the door. Still no word from Oliver. With a brief sigh, she nodded and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

"I enjoyed the article," he said after a moment, attempting conversation.

"Hmm? Which one?" Chloe asked absently, mind clearly elsewhere.

He chuckled. "I meant the one about the fundraiser that you interviewed me for."

Chloe started slightly and then sighed embarrassedly. "Sorry. That's nice. You liked it?"

He lifted his shoulder slightly. "Half of it was over my head. I've been dying to ask you: What does 'perspicacity' mean?"

Chloe laughed. "Insight."

He laughed. "I'll never remember that."

Chloe almost jumped out of her skin when her phone rang, letting out a small squeal of surprise and stumbling into Seth slightly. "Oh, god," she muttered, clutching him awkwardly to regain her balance as her phone continued to buzz. "I'm sorry."

He was laughing good naturedly, though. "Where is that coming from?" he asked, noting that there didn't exactly appear to be room for her phone on her person. She was clad in a green silk dress that hugged her curves and definitely didn't appear to have pockets.

She lifted a conspiratorial brow. "Can you keep a secret?"

He nodded, eyes gleaming with amusement.

Chloe inconspicuously slipped her fingers down the neckline of her dress, producing her phone and smiling sheepishly. Seth laughed whole-heartedly. "I never go anywhere without it," she said, then sighed slightly as she looked at the screen. "It's my date..." she looked at him apologetically.

"Go, go," he shooed her off. "But I expect you to make it up to me later," he added, winking.

Chloe nodded, glad for the chance to escape him. She subtly slipped out of the ballroom in the Queen's home and into a hallway before flipping open the phone to call him back.

"Too busy dancing with Daniels to answer your phone?" joked Oliver's voice on the other end.

"Are you here?" she asked, thinking he must have seen her.

"Why? Is that actually what you were doing?" he asked in surprise, his tone betraying a trace of jealousy, but mostly just good humor.

Chloe sighed. "Where are you?"

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was a bank robbery. I'm coming in through my window."

"Why?" she asked stupidly.

"I don't think the Green Arrow is on the guest list," he teased.

Chloe shook her head in exasperation. "I guess I meant why is the Green Arrow coming in through the window as opposed to Oliver Queen walking through the door."

"I may have neglected my tux."

"Oliver!"

"Relax. There's one here. Want to come up?"

Chloe sighed.

"We both know you're secretly fed up with all these high class parties. Come chill out and gripe about rich people."

"The only rich person I've got to gripe about is you. You know your parents have been asking me where you are all night?" she added irritably, already on her way up the stairs in spite of herself.

She could practically hear his grin. "Yeah, yeah."

"A bank robbery took you over an hour?" she asked grudgingly, making her way down a long corridor.

"Lay off. There were hostages."

"Really?" she asked, brightening up. She would have been concerned if it weren't for Oliver's evident good mood. If something had gone wrong, he wouldn't be so lighthearted.

"Yes. And yes, I'll give you the full scoop so you can get it into tomorrow's paper."

She pressed her lips together, fighting a grin. "I might forgive you yet."

"Such a sweet, selfless girl."

She rolled her eyes, knocking on the door of his room.

The door swung open. "You knocked? Seriously?" he laughed, hanging up.

"Well you said you were changing and-and-" Chloe faltered.

Oliver had not changed into his tux. He was still in costume, and he was sporting a rather dark bruise across the left side of his face. He looked at her sheepishly, seeing the scowl forming on her face.

"_Oliver," _she scolded.

"I know, I know," he said, letting her in. "You look really pretty, by the way," he said, attempting to distract her.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line.

"Right. Well, as you can see-"

"You can't be seen at your parents' own party."

He shrugged. "Well, there are a couple of options here."

"Enlighten me," she said tiredly, sitting on his bed to watch him.

"I can pretend I got in a fight with someone."

"Over what?"

He shrugged. "Bar fight. Girl. The usual. We could say someone made a pass at you," he added thoughtfully, noting by the look on her face that she wasn't going to go along with it.

"Option B."

"I can suck up my pride and you can try to cover it up with makeup."

"Won't help the swelling and even by the time we ice it down, the make up I have isn't heavy enough to hide something like that, not when people will be so close."

"Right," he said, grinning in spite of himself. "Well, the final option is that you can keep me company and we just won't go down there at all. Though it's a shame to waste that dress," he added, nodding at her.

Chloe groaned.

"Relax. There's enough people down there that no one will really miss us."

"Except your parents."

"We'll tell them I was proposing to you outside."

She giggled, shaking her head.

"I knew I'd get you to laugh."

"You're not forgiven, though," she said grudgingly, trying to force her smile back down and pin him with a piercing glare. The result was slightly less than formidable.

"Come on, do you know how many more of these things I'll have to attend in my life?" he begged. "One won't kill me."

She sighed. "Fine. But personally, I don't see why _I_ should have to miss anything," she said. "I'm not the one sporting a bruise the size of Texas."

"Aw, come on," he said, wrapping her in an unfair hug. "Keep me company while I'm confined to my room. Pleeeaaaase," he pleaded with her as she scrambled to break free.

"Fine, fine. I'll stay," she gave in, laughing.

"Sweet," he said.

"Are you going to change now?" she asked in resignation.

He nodded, smirking. "You're welcome to wa-Where are you going?"

She laughed, her hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to find my spare pajamas in the guest room."

He pouted. "I like the dress."

"Yeah, me too," she laughed sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she left.

When she returned she found Oliver clothed in a T-shirt and sweats, a pack of ice on the side of his face.

She shook her head.

"How is it your parents haven't figured you out, yet?" she asked, sitting down with him on the couch.

"Beats me. Because I'm clever as hell?" he suggested lightly.

"That or they're completely dense when it comes to you," she tossed back.

"So how's it going down there?" he asked, referring to the party.

She shrugged. "Smoothly as usual. Your parents always put together fantastic events. Tasteful, elegant, fun..." she sighed, trailing off wistfully, trying to make him feel guilty.

"We both know you're thrilled just to get out of the shoes you were wearing."

"Maybe," she admitted grudgingly, a smile tugging at her lips.

"C'mere," he said, setting aside the ice for his face and pulling her feet onto his lap and beginning to massage them. "See? _So_ much better than a stuffy party."

"Your parents' parties are not stuffy," she sniffed, trying not to completely melt at the feel of his hands rubbing her ankles warmly.

"So did you dance at all?" he asked casually.

"Mmhmm," she sighed.

"Who with?"

"Your father."

He chuckled. "Of course. Anyone else?"

She knew what he was getting at, but she didn't give in just yet, instead lying back on the couch and closing her eyes.

"Was Bruce there?" he prompted.

"Mmm no."

"What about that baseball player?"

"Mmhmm."

"_Well?"_

She opened an eye to look at him. "Yes, he was there," she sighed, the slightest hint of irritation in her voice. "Yes we danced. And then you called."

He nodded. "Huh. He's not waiting on you, is he?" he asked, trying to keep the impatience from his voice.

She shook her head no, then paused and nodded yes. "Sort of. Not really. No big deal."

Oliver's hands paused. "Did you want to go back down?"

She looked up at him, amused. "I'm already out of the dress. I think I'm good."

"Right," he said, somewhat mollified as his hands started up again. "So did you ever call him?"

"No. I decided not to." She opened an eye again to watch his reaction closely.

Relief flashed quickly across his face before he replaced it with carefully constructed indifference. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I never really had a thing for athletes."

"Didn't you have a crush on Clark all through high school? I thought he was a football player."

Her eyes drifted shut again and she muttered something incomprehensible.

"What?"

"I said that didn't really have anything to do with him playing football. I liked him a long time before that ever started," she said, mind wandering to a much younger version of her and Clark. She smiled softly.

"What did it have to do with?" he asked curiously.

Her eyebrows went up, but her eyes remained closed. "Oh, a lot of things, I suppose. It was easy to have a crush on Clark. He was cute and we were friends and he was so noble all the time. It was sweet. But we were just kids, too," she added thoughtfully. "He and Lois are...beautifully cliche."

"What does that mean?" he laughed.

"They're _meant_ for each other."

He nodded thoughtfully.

His hands paused again and Chloe sat up, yawning. "Your turn," she said, crawling over to him. He looked surprised but she just pushed him forward on the couch, moving to sit behind him so she could start massaging his shoulder. Oliver immediately groaned. "Did I hurt you?" she asked nervously, instantly freezing.

He shook his head. "Dear God, no."

She laughed, returning to her work. "Jeez, you really get tense up here, don't you?"

"You try rescuing hostages from an armed robbery sometime," he said sarcastically, laughter in his exhausted voice.

She chuckled. "Good point."

They were silent for a good while, save Oliver's moans as Chloe slowly but surely worked the knots out of his back.

"You're an angel," he said finally, as she finished. He pulled her hand around and kissed her finger tips.

Chloe wasn't exactly thinking about it. At least, if she tried to figure it out later, she couldn't remember if she was thinking about anything. She slid her hands over his chest, hugging him and pressing her cheek against his. "Not really," she said lightly. She planted a kiss on his cheek.

His hands moved over her arms, keeping her from pulling away, and his head turned slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

Chloe found herself very aware of the effort it suddenly required to breathe steadily, butterflies rising in her stomach and fluttering hopefully.

"Want to know a secret?" Oliver asked.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Sure."

"I am _really_ glad you never called that blasted ballplayer," he said, before closing the small space between them and kissing her.

Chloe thought she could feel a small shudder travel through her body, as if each nerve had to be awakened for this. Oliver was turning, pulling her around from behind him as his lips molded to hers, softly savoring hers. His hands traveled around to the small of her back and she slowly began to return the kiss, her hands threading into his hair as she rose to her knees to better match him, tilting his head up to her.

Oliver's lips pulled away from hers and began trailing over her jawline before reaching her ear and biting it, making Chloe laugh, her body arching in surprise. She could feel his lips smiling against her neck and she pulled back giggling, though his arms around her didn't let her retreat far.

She looked into his eyes, and she had a feeling all the things she was thinking, wondering were reflected there, and she knew it was all right, that _this_ was right. She tried to press another kiss to his lips but found it difficult.

"Do you know how hard this is when you keep smiling like that?" she laughed.

"Sorry," he teased, grinning back at her regardless, pressing his nose against hers.

She tried to be serious with minimal success. "So..."

"Yes," he said, silencing her with another kiss.


	17. Ch 16: A Chat With the Lionheart

**Chapter 16:**

**A Chat With the Lionheart**

When Laura Queen went searching for her son the morning after the Make-A-Wish gala, it was with the intention of chewing his ear off for not showing up the night before. It wasn't just that she was frustrated with him for not showing up. That was immature. The thing that really bothered her was that he stood Chloe up. She'd seen Chloe roaming around looking abandoned half the night, and then she'd just disappeared. It was evident she'd given up on waiting for Oliver and gone home. Besides that, her husband had informed her that he'd seen Chloe dancing with the star pitcher for the Rockets. If Oliver wasn't careful, he was going to let that girl slip right through his fingers.

She shook her head, sighing wearily as she climbed the spiraling flight of stairs up to the second floor.

This punctuality issue her son was experiencing needed to be ended once and for all. He was persistently late, constantly missing from important events. She couldn't even begin to imagine where it was he went all the time, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know, but he really needed to determine where his priorities lay.

With that in mind, she opened the door to her son's room, prepared to drag him out of bed to scold him, but she stopped short, mouth opening slightly.

Oliver was not in his bed, although he was home. He was lying on his couch with none other than Chloe Sullivan lounging comfortably in his arms, both of them snoring, her son loudly enough to wake the dead.

She would have smiled, would have thought the scene sweet and endearing, but unfortunately, marring it was the large purple bruise that had blossomed on her son's face. She grimaced, trying to determine whether or not she was going to demand to know where it came from or not. She had led a rather long life, and she had a son who was sometimes less than model, and she had learned long ago that somethings were better left un-investigated.

She looked at him again, and then at Chloe, and for a moment, she did give into that smile. Finally, with a sigh, she shut the door of his room and backed out. She would talk to Oliver after Chloe had gone home.

* * *

That afternoon, Oliver walked out of the kitchen, tossing an apple in the air and catching it in one hand, about ready to start whistling he was in such a good mood. Lifting the apple to his lips he paused mid-oversized-bite, at the sight of his mother, standing at the bottom of the stair case, arms folded, fixing him with the ever-intimidating 'Mom-stare.'

Haphazardly catching the apple as it fell from his mouth, he blurted out, "I can explain," before he could stop himself.

Laura gave him a wry smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh?"

Expression contrite, he lifted a shoulder helplessly.

"I'm trying to decide where I want you to begin. How about with where you were last night?"

"Upstairs?" he suggested mildly.

She nodded, the corner of her lip twitching. "And before that?"

"Look, I'm sorry I was late, but when I got home, I figured you'd prefer it if I didn't show up looking like I just got pulled from a bar fight."

"_Had_ you just been pulled from a bar fight?" she asked, eyeing the bruise on his cheek.

"Not-not exactly."

Laura sighed. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" She almost regretted saying it. She instantly noted the wheels turning behind Oliver's eyes as he sought out an explanation, and whatever he said next, she knew it wouldn't be the truth.

"Mugger. Saw him pull some older woman into an alley and I went to help her."

She looked him hard in the eyes, looking for some sign that he was wavering from his story. Oliver did his best not to look guilty. Technically it wasn't entirely untrue. That exact thing _had_ happened the previous night, only it had been the Green Arrow rescuing her. It just wasn't where he had picked up the bruise, either.

Finally she sighed again and said, "Oh well, as long as you apologized to Chloe for making her wait on you-"

"I did."

"-and she was okay with it-"

"She was."

The corner of her lips tugged knowingly. "How is Chloe today?"

"She's...fine."

"Hmm. That's nice. Listen, Oliver, I wanted to tell you, your father and I will be going out of town for about a week. We're leaving tonight."

Oliver, who had once again made a failed attempt to take a bite from his apple, looked at her in surprise. "So urgent? Where are you going?"

"Metropolis. And then Seoul, South Korea."

"What are you doing in Metropolis?" he asked suspiciously.

Laura laughed. "That's the part you're curious about? Not the trip to another hemisphere?"

He continued to stare her down, not missing the way her eyes darted to the left corner when she answered next.

"We're stopping in Metropolis to see Lionel Luthor."

Oliver gaped unabashedly at her. "You're doing _what_?"

Laura rolled her eyes, turning to head upstairs. "You know, contrary to your personal sentiments, Oliver, one can carry on business without actually liking the person you're doing business with."

"Maybe," he said after her, "but you definitely can't do business with someone you don't trust."

Laura, several steps up now, glanced over her shoulder to look at him appraisingly. "Perhaps not, but sometimes you just have to trust people to be untrustworthy. It's almost the same thing," she told him in a tone that signaled the end of the conversation.

"Where's dad?" he forged on recklessly. "Is he here?"

"He's at the office, darling."

"On a Sunday?"

"Well, we are leaving on a last minute trip, Oliver. He had to tie up some loose ends," she said firmly before turning away.

Oliver watched her go warily before taking off for the office. He was getting to the bottom of this if it killed him.

* * *

"Oh, Miss Hart, what have I told you about fraternizing with that woman?" Oliver said, surprised when he walked outside the lobby of his father's office to see Chloe sitting cross-legged on top of Leanne's desk, leaning over to look at something on the computer screen. Chloe looked up and smirked. "How did you find me?" he asked.

"Who said I was looking for _you_?" she asked, grinning as he walked over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "I might have just been commiserating with a certain over-worked secretary."

Leanne watched the exchange with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

"Which brings me to my next question: How on earth did my father convince you to come in on a Sunday?" Oliver asked Leanne.

She shrugged. "Ever think maybe you're not the only one who knows what my favorite perfume is?" she asked, betraying herself with a smile. In spite of her off-hand reply, Oliver was sure his father had convinced her it was fairly urgent to bring her into the office.

"Right. Well, is he in?"

"As a matter of fact, he told me to send you in if you stopped by."

Oliver blinked. "I'm sorry, run that by me again?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You just said you were going to let me in my father's office."

"So?" Chloe said, watching him with equal amusement.

"So in all the time I have known her, she has _never_ let me in there that easily."

Chloe snorted, and Leanne rolled her eyes. "I do my job, Mr. Queen. If giving you a hard time happens to coincide with that job, that isn't my fault."

"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it."

"I never said I didn't," she told him, buzzing him in.

Oliver leaned over to kiss Chloe again. "I'll deal with _you_ when I get out of there."

Brow arched skeptically, Chloe watched him walk into his father's office.

The door closed and Leanne threw a pad of sticky notes at Chloe. Chloe ducked in the nick of time. "Woah! What was that for?" she asked in surprise.

"Were you going to _tell_ me that you two were suddenly all over each other?"

Chloe blushed. "We're not all over each other," she said indignantly.

Leanne sighed. "He is _so_ wasted on you."

* * *

"Hello, _Dad_," Oliver said as he approached his father's desk.

Robert looked up from his computer. "Son," he greeted. "Judging by the sarcastic tone, I'd say you're upset about something."

"Yeah, I am," Oliver said, resting his hands on his father's desk to lean across it. "I'd like to know why, all of a sudden, after more than a decade of having absolutely nothing to do with Lionel Luthor, all of a sudden, you and Mom are paying him regular visits."

"It's b-"

"Don't you dare feed me the 'It's business' line! This is about something else and we both know it! Why are you and Mom keeping this from me? What the hell is going on?"

Robert watched as Oliver paced angrily back in forth in front of his desk. "Oliver, it's nothing to worry about. Lionel has some-" he hesitated, searching for the right word, "_research_," he settled on finally, "that I'm interested in. I'm attempting to persuade him to share it with me."

Oliver glared at him. "Research on what?"

Robert chuckled lightly. "Listen, Oliver," he said, rubbing his temple with a weary sigh. "I would love to spend all afternoon talking to you about the many things Lionel Luthor has that I'd rather he didn't, but I don't have time. I was going to call you in if you didn't stop by. I need you to take care of a few things while we're gone."

Oliver raised his brow grimly. "Oh?"

"Don't take that bleak attitude. There's a board of directors meeting tomorrow you need to head up, and I need you to take a couple of meetings for me."

"Uh huh," Oliver said, sitting down finally and giving in for the moment.

"And I figured while you're speaking with the board, you can go ahead and show them that proposal you gave me," Robert added casually, lifting his computer screen again.

Oliver looked up.

"The one you gave me last week," Robert said, noticing his confused expression. "I've been looking it over." He lifted a file from his desk and tossed it over to Oliver indicatively. "It's good stuff. I'm impressed. I think the board will be, too."

Oliver was silent, and Robert looked over at him, amused.

"You're always so shocked when I treat you like an adult. Now get out of here. I imagine Miss Sullivan is still waiting out there for you," he dismissed, looking back down to his computer and typing something.

Oliver rose to leave, still not sure what to say, but then he paused. "Hang on, what is it you're doing in South Korea, exactly?"

Robert looked up again and chuckled. "Visitng Oh Se-hoon."

"What's he up to these days? More water-purification projects?"

"Running for president, actually."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Wish him luck for me," he said, turning to the door again and walking out.

Outside he found Chloe and Leanne gossiping about something. Both women stopped talking abruptly at the sight of him. He grinned. "Oh, please don't stop on my account. You'll make me think you were talking about me."

The women exchanged significant glances. And Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Right." He turned to Chloe. "You were looking for me?"

She nodded, hopping down from the desk. "Your mother figured you would probably be here. You're taking me to lunch," she informed him, straightening his tie before patting his shoulder affectionately. "Let's go."


	18. Ch 17: The Crusades

**Author's Comment: Hey, everyone. Sorry it's taken awhile. My work hours have seriously picked up, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this. :)**

**BlueSuedeShoes**

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* * *

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**Chapter 17:**

**King Richard Leaves for the Crusades**

Over the next two days, Oliver spent a great deal of time running his father's company in his absence, an even greater deal of time surprising Chloe with coffee at random times and places all over the city, but the greatest amount of time searching through every file and every project and every aspect of Queen Industries to find what business they could possibly be doing with Luthorcorp. He left no stone unturned, but the results were fruitless.

"I hate to actually vocalize this possibility," said Chloe one day, taking a sip of the fresh, hazelnut flavored brew Oliver had just handed off to her outside of the post office, "but is there a possibility you're parents are doing something illegal? And that's why there isn't any record of anything?" They were sitting down on a bench against the wall, watching people and cars pass them by.

Oliver shook his head. "Not in a million years. My dad would die rather than tarnish QI. It's too important to him. And even if for a moment he slipped, Mom wouldn't go along with it."

Chloe just sipped her coffee thoughtfully in response. "This is really good, by the way. Where did you get it from?"

"If I told you that, what would you need me for?" he smirked. Chloe could see his thoughts were still miles away in Metropolis. Finally, she knew she had to voice what they'd both been thinking for a while.

"Does this have something to do with Clark, then?"

Oliver tried not to grimace. He had been thinking the same thing. It was the only logical explanation for his parents' continued visits to Lionel Luthor. He nodded. "I think that's exactly what it is."

Chloe took another sip in silence. A short while after discovering Oliver's secret identity as the Green Arrow and getting past their big blow-out, Chloe had talked to Clark about the 'Traveler' business, and Clark had eventually allowed her to tell Oliver the truth at her own discretion, trusting her not to do anything she thought unwise.

"Have you spoken to Clark lately?" Oliver asked.

Chloe blushed. "Not-not lately."

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her strange embarrassment over the matter. Then understanding dawned on him. "You haven't told anyone about us, yet, have you?"

"No!" Chloe bristled defensively. "I told your father's secretary about it," she joked feebly, laughing a little.

Oliver laughed with her, shaking his head. "Come on," he teased. "It's really easy. Just go on facebook and click 'in a relationship.' Then everybody knows." He poked her in the ribs, nearly causing her to drop her coffee in surprise.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I know; I know. I'm planning to tell Lois as soon as I talk to her next. And then, like a complete coward, I'm going to let her tell Clark." She smiled deviously at her plan. "And just so you know," her smile turned sweeter, "I _did_ call my dad and tell him."

The corner of Oliver's lip twitched. "And?"

"And he's pretty angry about it."

Oliver looked at her in surprise. "What? Why? I thought your dad liked me." He had met Chloe's dad when he came in town for a brief weekend visit the previous fall.

"Well, yeah," Chloe said matter-of-factly, "but he says now whatever he gets me for Christmas or my birthday is automatically going to be outshone." The dancing in her eyes was the only thing that betrayed her serious voice.

Oliver chuckled. "And what did you say to him?"

"I said he knows I hate flashy gifts and that I was going to strictly forbid you to buy me anything you can't find at Target."

Oliver laughed outright. "Aw, come on! That's not fair!"

After a while they both sobered again, and Oliver brought up something else that had been hanging on his mind for a bit. "So, my dad called this morning."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm. He asked after you. Told me to say hi for him."

Chloe nodded patiently, knowing Oliver was working up to something.

"And he and my mom are leaving for South Korea tomorrow night."

"Uh huh."

"And apparently there's this thing he forgot about that's two days from now."

"Mmhmm."

"In Metropolis."

Chloe raised an eyebrow.

"And I need to go."

The corner of Chloe's lip twitched as she realized where Oliver was heading.

Oliver waited for a moment, as though he knew she'd cottoned on, but finally recognized that she was going to make him work for it. He heaved a heavy sigh. "And I want you to take off from work and go with me," he said in one breath.

Chloe sighed as well, shaking her head at the coffee, as though it was the only one who understood the things she put up with. "Ollie, I can't take off work, and you know it. I'd love to go, but I just can't."

"Pleeeaaase?" he pleaded, nudging her head with his. "I'll make it worth your while," he added, kissing her ear.

"Hmm," she said, trying to focus coherent thought as he nibbled the cuff of her ear. "Just how do you propose to do that?"

"Well," he said, working his way down her neck, which tickled and made her laugh as he slid a hand around her waist, "this, _thing_ I have to do wouldn't last long, so we could take the rest of the two days to just...mmph." His words were cut off as Chloe shoved his face away, thumb covering his mouth.

"Try again," she told him, smirking at his indignant expression.

He sighed. "Why can't you be like other women and therefore easily swayed by my good looks?" he asked.

She laughed. "Because neither of us would like me half as much if I were."

"Good point. Well, since you are not like other women," he said, stealing her coffee for a sip, "I will have to lure you by other means: The 'thing' that I have to do involves meeting a scientist that I think you would like to meet."

"Oh?" Chloe looked at him with renewed interest.

He nodded. "Yeah. He's apparently been making some major technological breakthroughs the past couple of years, and he's a renowned genius. I figured you'd get along with him pretty well," he said, eyes dancing.

"And who is this mad scientist?" Chloe asked, feeling herself getting reeled in.

"Doctor Emil Hamilton," Oliver said, handing her coffee back.

Chloe's eyebrows nearly disappeared behind her hairline. "You're kidding."

Oliver grinned. "You've heard of him?"

"Yeah, I've read all his work. He's incredible. His understanding of advanced technology is unparalleled, not to mention his knowledge of biology and astronomical anomalies. I mean-"

"Woah, slow down there, Sidekick. I know who he is, remember?" he laughed. "Can I take that to mean you'll go?"

Chloe chewed on her lip nervously. "Would he give me an interview?"

Oliver's grin broadened. "I think I could persuade him."

"Which means, _technically_, I wouldn't be taking time off. I'd be traveling for business," she said slowly, testing out how it sounded.

Oliver looked triumphant and Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too excited. I have to run it past George first."

* * *

"Hey, Lois," Chloe said, clutching the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she rummaged in her fridge. She was calling to let Lois know that she was coming to Metropolis, and to go ahead and make the Oliver announcement. She'd decided it was better than telling Lois in person, knowing she would only have to deal with the 'I told you so' note in Lois's voice for a few minutes, rather than an entire day.

"Chloe," said a male voice, causing Chloe to almost drop the phone in surprise.

"Clark! Hi!" she said, cheeks turning red. "Did I accidentally dial the wrong number?" she asked before pulling the phone away to check the screen.

"No, but Lois is freaking out over a deadline and she ordered me to answer her phone," he said in an irritable voice. "Not that I mind. I've been trying to get a hold of you for a couple of days now, Chloe," he said, a note of accusation in his voice.

Chloe grimaced. She'd been avoiding talking to Clark ever since she and Oliver had become...well, her and Oliver. "I've been crazy busy at the paper, Clark. We don't all have supersonic speed," she said, pulling out a spoon and peeling back the foil lid on a cup of yogurt.

"Listen, Chloe, it doesn't matter. The thing is," his voice lowered, and she could tell he was trying to make sure Lois didn't overhear, "what exactly do your boyfriend's parents know about me?"

Chloe choked. Coughing and sputtering, she wasn't sure which part of the question to address first. "Oliver is-"

"Not your boyfriend. Yeah, yeah, so you keep telling me," Clark cut her off, and Chloe could practically hear his eye roll. "Not the point. I want to know why his parents are trying to meet with me."

Chloe blinked rapidly several times before she managed to respond. "What?"

"They've left me two messages now, and I have no idea how they even got my phone number, let alone my e-mail address, and they're saying they want to meet with me."

"Right," Chloe said slowly, her mind working quickly. Finally she made up her mind. "Do it."

"What?"

"Meet with them. Remember when I told you that Oliver figured you out?"

"Yeah," Clark said sourly.

"Well he figured you out because his parents have been trying to figure you out. Maybe they weren't as far away as we thought."

"What?" he deadpanned.

"Just for the record, while I can take some of the blame for Oliver discovering your secret, this one definitely isn't my fault."

"But you want me to meet them," he repeated, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"Yeah, I do. We lost Virgil Swann last year, and I think that these people might be able to pick up where he left off. They knew him."

"They did?"

"Yeah." She conveniently neglected to mention that they also knew Lionel Luthor, wondering whether or not it was wise to do so. She comforted herself with the knowledge that the Queens and the Luthors weren't exactly on friendly terms. "I think you can trust them. But it's up to you. Can you put Lois on the phone, please?"

Clark started. "Right, sure."

She heard some shuffling and muffled bickering as the phone was passed over.

"'sup?" her cousin's voice said absently.

"Hey, cuz," Chloe greeted, amused.

"Chloe? What's up?"

"I'm coming to visit."

"Really? Awesome. I'll pull out the sheets for the couch."

"I'm staying in a hotel."

"Why?"

"Because I'm staying with Oliver."

There was a long, drawn out pause.

"Well thank God. It's about time you told me, by the way."

Chloe gave a short laugh. "What?"

"Well I've known for a couple of days."

"How?" Chloe asked, shaking her head.

"Well you told your dad, who told the General-"

"-who told you," Chloe finished with a laugh. "I don't believe it. Who'd have thought our dad's were gossips?"

"Umm, not gossips. Try overprotective lunkheads. Your dad told the General so he would do a background check, and the General told me so that I would keep an eye on you."

Chloe shook her head. "Wow."

"Uh huh. So you're coming to my neck of the woods, huh? Sounds great. E-mail me the details. I'm in the midst of outing a dirty politician, so I gotta go."

"Um, okay?" Chloe said, surprised as she heard the line cut off quickly. She looked at her phone, and after a quick beat, she dialed Oliver's number. Turns out maybe they knew what his parents were doing in Metropolis after all.

* * *

With the news that his parents were planning to approach Clark, Oliver became all the more anxious to get to Metropolis. He realized as he thought his parents must, that Lionel, too, knew Clark's secret. He didn't dare tell Chloe, knowing her loathing for all things Luthor. He didn't want to upset her until he could be absolutely sure what Lionel knew.

As the two of them landed in Metropolis, he knew his parents were simultaneously preparing a jet to leave for Chicago, where they would refuel and fly to Europe, before leaving for Seoul. Even as Chloe was speaking rapidly over the phone with Lois, badgering her about Clark, he remained silent, his own thoughts far from his companion. He had to find a way to find out how much Lionel knew. His parents would never tell him, so he had to find out straight from the horse's mouth, one way or another.

"Oliver?"

He blinked and realized that Chloe was shooting him a concerned look. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "What did you say?"

"I said I want you to drop me off with Lois for today. I'll meet you for dinner, all right?"

He nodded. "That works perfectly, actually. There's a few things I want to take care of before we see Hamilton tomorrow morning."

* * *

"Excellent. I want that taken care of by tomorrow morning," Lionel Luthor was saying into his bluetooth as he entered his office. He stopped short at the sight of a young man seated in his desk chair, clicking a desk toy back and forth and looking far too at home. He hung up on his phone call and couldn't help the small smile of amusement as he spoke to the impertinent person before him. "Dare I ask how you got in here?" he asked.

Oliver, having carefully appeared absorbed in the desk toy until this point, took the moment to look up at Lionel Luthor. He smirked and leaned back comfortably in the desk chair. "Probably not. I'd hate for anyone to get fired on my account."

Lionel watched him with a raised brow, waiting for some explanation. He received none. Oliver became instead absorbed in staring out the window of the office. "Nice view. You don't see much smog from this perspective," he noted.

"Mr. Queen, kindly explain your purpose in being here, or remove yourself from my office. Unlike yourself, apparently, I have a lot of things to do with my afternoon."

Oliver nodded his head a few times, seeming to think something over, and Lionel grew impatient. Just as he was about to speak again, Oliver prevented him. "I was curious, Mr. Luthor. I've been exploring a few of Queen Industries' more obscure projects, and I found one that involved you." He maintained a somewhat bored, disinterested facade as he spoke, choosing his words slowly and carefully. "But the file was incomplete. With my parents leaving today, and being in Metropolis anyway, I thought I'd just come straight to you, ask you what you could tell me about it."

Lionel gave him a look that urged him to continue, however impatient the expression may have been. "And?" he pressed. "What project is this? I'm not aware of-"

"It's called Veritas."

Oliver watched Lionel's reaction carefully. He noticed Lionel's hand making a discreet movement, one only the Green Arrow's trained eyes could have caught, which was undoubtedly signaling security. He hid his triumphant smirk deliberately.

Lionel's eyes narrowed, but he still smiled - however much Lionel Luthor ever truly smiled - and responded without answering. "You know something, Mr. Queen, you remind me of Oedipus."

Oliver scoffed and raised his eyebrows in amusement. "You think I'm going to gouge my eyes out? Because I think we both know I'm not going to unknowingly kill my father and marry my mother."

"Perhaps not, but Oedipus, too, was greatly loved, and greatly ignorant of his own flaws. No one wanted to see his downfall, but it came nonetheless." As Lionel spoke, two rather large security guards entered the room. "He, too, could not escape his fate, no matter how hard everyone else tried to protect him from it, no matter how hard he tried to run from it. Please escort Mr. Queen out," he finished, speaking to the guards.

Oliver rose from his seat, knowing there was no need to make a scene. He brushed the guards off at the door, though. "I can find the exit myself, thanks."

As he sped from Lionel's office, his mind reeled. Lionel's reaction to the word 'Veritas' had confirmed for him, if not that Lionel knew for certain that it was Clark, that Lionel had far from forgotten the elitist club he and a select few others had once entertained themselves with.

More importantly, he was trying to ascertain what Lionel had meant by escaping his fait. What fate?

_Fate. Fate._ He thought hurriedly, bursting into the sunlight outside the LuthorCorp building. _Something that is meant to happen. That didn't happen before...would have happened? Something that almost happened but didn't...something that's _going_ to happen..._

As though the magical link had clicked into place, Oliver stopped stock still, suddenly understanding what Lionel had meant.

_Oh god._

He pulled out his phone and misdialed Chloe's number twice in his frenzy. The phone didn't even complete the first ring before Chloe's frenzied voice answered.

"Oliver, Lois hasn't seen Clark since he left to talk to your parents last night. He's not answering his phone."


	19. Ch 18: Merry Men

**Chapter 18**

**Merry Men**

Chloe was trying not to panic. Oliver was on his way, and for some reason he had her tracking his parents' flight. She had asked why, but Oliver had already hung up.

She bit her lip anxiously, wondering for the hundredth time why Oliver would respond to Clark's being missing in action with checking his parents' flight progress. She was about to pick up the phone to call him again when there was a knocking on the door of Lois's apartment. Chloe had sent Lois to the Planet, convincing Lois that Chloe would find Clark and that he'd probably gone to the farm for the night and overslept by accident. When she went to get the door and found Oliver there, she swallowed the question of how he got there so quickly, realizing that she probably didn't want to know.

"They're over the Atlantic. What's going on?"

"Remember when I told you Luthor tried to kill my parents?" he asked, moving past her to see her laptop for himself.

Chloe nodded.

"I think he's going to try again. And I think he's made damn sure that Clark isn't around to save them. He must have realized my parents figured Clark out. I think he's known for a while."

"You don't think he'd-"

"No," Oliver shook his head. "Lionel wouldn't want to kill Clark. He just wants to be the only one with influence over him."

Chloe closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, as though rewiring her brain with the new information and with what she had to do. When they flew back open, a look of determination was etched on her face. "Well then we have to get Clark so Clark can save your parents." She moved with purpose to the computer and started typing furiously.

"What are you doing?"

"Activating the GPS I had planted in Clark's phone."

Oliver stared at her, and she gave him an almost patronizing look. "He'll get over it. He's debatably the most powerful person on the planet. You think I was going to let him walk around all by himself?" she raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the computer.

Oliver blinked at her in no little awe before he snapped out of it and started making calls to the airports his parents had left and would be leaving for. His parents themselves were not answering. Undoubtedly, he told himself, because they had turned their phones off for the flight.

"I've found him," Chloe piped up a moment later as he managed to get hold of the manager of the airport they were landing at in Belgium. In a rush he spilled out that the man needed to delay his parents' flight out of there, and to insist that they contact Oliver as soon as they landed. The man seemed incredibly confused, but also understood that the Queens more or less paid the bills for the small airport, so there was no point refusing. Only minimally relieved, Oliver turned to Chloe, who opened her mouth only to be interrupted by the ringing of Oliver's phone. He grabbed it eagerly, but his face dropped in exasperation when he saw the name on the screen was not his parents'.

"I forgot about Hamilton," Oliver groaned.

"Give it to me," Chloe said, snatching it without asking. "Hello?" she said, answering the call. "This is Mr. Queen's secretary," she paused, listening, "yes I understand. No, it's our fault entirely. Can we possibly reschedule? Mr. Queen will still be in town tomorrow. Yes, excellent. Absolutely. He's very sorry. He told me explicitly to be sure to apologize to you and explain that it was a family emergency. Yes, of course. Thank you so much. Goodbye, Dr. Hamilton." She hung up and handed the phone to Oliver. "Problem solved," she said simply. "Bigger problem: I know where Clark is."

"Shouldn't that be a solved problem?" he asked warily.

She shook her head. "Not when he appears to be locked in a LuthorCorp facility on the outskirts of Smallville."

Oliver almost didn't want to ask. _"Locked?"_ he repeated, knowing that it would take more than a simple deadbolt to keep Clark Kent out _or _in.

Chloe looked at the computer screen nervously, biting her lip. "It looks like the plant is used for research on the 'anatomical applications of various geological substances.' "

Oliver frowned. "Meaning?"

"They're experimenting with meteor rocks, and-" she took a deep breath, and Oliver was struck with the impression that she was mentally arguing with herself, "Clark's allergic."

"Allergic?" Oliver deadpanned.

"It's the easiest way to explain it. Point is, that stuff can hurt him. Even kill him. Oliver, we've got to get him out of there."

"And my parents?" he asked, starting to feel the enormity of the situation settle in on him. For all he knew, any minute the death of his parents would be all over the news.

"Oliver, if anyone can save your parents, it's Clark. I'll keep trying to contact them, but in the meantime, you're the only one who can save Clark."

She looked at him with such confidence, a hint of pleading in her voice, what else could he do but agree to it? He nodded. "How do I get there?"

Even in the weight of the situation, Chloe couldn't help the tiniest of smiles that tugged at the corner of her lips. "_You_, follow my instructions. _I'm _calling in reinforcements."

He raised an eyebrow. "Reinforcements? I don't like the sound of that."

"You're going to need help, Oliver. I have friends who will literally come running."

"I don't do teams, Chloe."

She shot him a look that silenced further arguments. "You're going to start," with which statement she pulled out her own cell phone.

It was less than half an hour later when Bart, Victor, and AC were bickering over communication links while Chloe stared at her laptop, four blinking lights indicating their location as well as Oliver's. She had called Bart first, using his help to round up Victor and AC, both of whom had come willingly enough when they found out it was Chloe asking for their help. However, now that she had the four boys together, it was difficult to keep them under control.

Just as she was thinking that, however, she heard Oliver speak up on the other end. "Hey, shut up and listen. This is a touch time sensitive," he said in a sarcastically threatening voice. "Chloe, we've taken out the two guards outside the back garage entrance. Take us in."

Chloe felt a slight smile curve her lips. Oliver appeared to have a few leadership skills, as it turned out. Other than a mild rumble from someone about green tights, none of the others argued, and she was finally dealing with a group that sounded manageable.

"Okay, I'm overriding the security codes as we speak," she explained. "As soon as you're in, Cyborg, I need you to try to tap into the security cameras onsite. If you can get me into the feed, I can figure out which room Boyscout is in. In the meantime, I'm going to set off the sprinkler systems for you, Aquaman. That way you and Bart should be able to take out the guards. I can see heat signatures crawling all over this place. Between the two of you, you should be able to clear the way for Arrow." Chloe felt almost a little ridiculous saying it all, as though she were playing on walky-talkies with a bunch of children, but the code names were necessary in case someone were to tap the same channel. It had only occurred to her moments ago when Oliver referred to her by her given name that they'd forgotten to give her an alternative designation. She shrugged a weary shoulder at the thought.

"No problem, 'licious," Bart was replying. "We'll clear the path for green bean there in a matter of seconds."

"Thanks," Chloe nodded. "All right guys, security's down. You should be able to waltz on in, but it won't take more than a moment for someone to notice the interrupted video feeds, so you won't have much time before you're swimming in guards," she warned as she watched their GPS signals enter the facility.

She could practically picture AC rubbing his hands together at her figure of speech. "Good thing I can hold my breath indefinitely."

Chloe grinned, flicking the last switch to activate the sprinklers. Almost as soon as she had, Victor was proudly informing her that he was streaming the videos her way. "You're amazing Cyborg," she told him. "Brace yourselves, guys. The guards are heading your way. I'm counting about five on the way. Once they realize what they're dealing with there's bound to be more," she told them. "I'll have Boyscout's location for you in a matter of seconds."

It was all Chloe could do to maintain focus as she surfed through the various video signals not to listen to the sound of scuffling on the other end of the lines. She knew her boys could more than handle themselves, but it wasn't in her nature not to worry. An alert on her computer distracted her from the camera streams for a moment. She cursed silently before warning the others. "Guys we're about to have a lot more company."

Then, to her surprise, she heard Oliver speak up again. "Everybody get down and hold your breath!" Chloe blinked in confusion. "Arrow? What are you doing? Guys? Somebody report!"

"Relax, 'licious. Chuckles over there has some sort of smoke-screen arrow," Bart responded easily, though Chloe didn't like the fact that he coughed as he was explaining.

"Smoke screen?"

"Knock-out gas," Oliver clarified, "They're still experimental, but-" before he could finish, Chloe interrupted.

"I've found him! Finally!"

"Where's he at, Chloe?" AC asked.

"Fourth floor down. Take a left and head for the elevator."

"Fourth floor _down_?" Victor asked as Chloe watched their signatures follow her directions.

"Yeah, there's five sub-levels below ground. Anyone want to start placing bets on whether or not the authorities know about that? Oh, head's up on the lef-" before she could finish she heard a thud and Victor reported that he had it covered.

"Based on the number of security guards they have here, I'm going to say that's a negative," AC added.

Chloe watched as they all safely entered the lift, and immediately turned her attention back to tracking the Queens' flight. So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary, but they were also barely a third of the way across the ocean. If anyone were going to try anything, it would only make sense to wait for the halfway point. Chloe took yet another nervous sip of coffee, noticing with disdain that the cup rattled in her hands. She was glad no one was there to see her losing her cool.

Her attention snapped back to the boys when someone informed her that the elevator had stopped. She also noted that someone had managed to turn off the fire sprinklers, which meant that AC's super strength would only last a limited amount of time. "Cyborg?" she asked, referring to the elevators.

"Already on it."

"Good," she said. "I'm getting a read on how much security is surrounding the room Clark's locked in," she told them, simultaneously attempting to bring up the fire alarms again.

"Elevator's working again," Oliver notified her.

Chloe beamed. "Cyborg, you're officially my new favorite-"

"Hey!" a simultaneous chorus of protest from Bart and Oliver interrupted her.

"-Now as soon as you get off, you'll have to deal with two guards, otherwise, there doesn't appear to be anyone else on that level, save for one in the back hallway, just outside Boyscout's campout. So if you can keep anyone from coming from other floors..."

"We can make this short and sweet," AC finished. "Me and Cyborg can hold down the fort while Impulse and Arrow take care of Boyscout."

"Just what I wanted to hear."

Within seconds Bart and Oliver were splitting off down the hall to Clark, following Chloe's directions while AC and Cyborg took care of any possible interruptions.

Bart took off ahead of Oliver, impatient to take care of the other guard, as he informed Chloe and Oliver. By the time Oliver got down the hall, he had to shakes his head in mild amusement, having found Bart dancing circles around the rather heavyset guard until he was impossibly dizzy. Oliver hit the staggering man in the back of his head, successfully knocking him out.

With that out of the way, Bart helped unhinge the door containing Clark, and the two of them found him lying on the ground, surrounded by shelf upon shelf of a glowing green liquid. "Chloe, he's..."

Chloe's heart stopped along with Oliver's sentence. "What? She demanded. What's wrong?"

"He doesn't look too hot, 'licious," Bart said warily, racing to the side of an unconscious Clark.

Oliver joined him and felt for a pulse. "He's alive," Oliver breathed, a sigh Chloe felt in her own chest. "But barely. He's been in here a long time."

"Get him out. Immediately. He needs sunlight."

"He's not a daisy, Chloe," Oliver warned, afraid she was getting her hopes up. From the looks of it, Clark was long past his expiration date.

"Just get him out there!" Chloe said. No sooner had the words passed her lips than her computer sent her an alert. She'd tapped into the radio signal of the Queens' private jet. Someone had sent a distress signal. "Oliver, NOW! Bart, clear the way for him. I don't care if you have to tunnel out, just get him to the sunlight!"

Everyone on the other end of the communicators noticed the sudden change in Chloe's tone. There were no witty, confident retorts this time, just silent submission to her instructions.

When Bart and Oliver found AC and Victor again, they were having a run for their money with five guards trying to get off the lift. Oliver pulled out his crossbow and embedded darts in three of them, rendering them unconscious. Bart, in the meantime, helped Victor take down the other two.

"Guys? Somebody give me an update."

"We're good, but Fishboy's fading pretty quick," Victor reported.

"I resent that," AC added, as the four of them clambered onto the elevator again, the dead-weight that was currently Clark in tow.

"Facts are facts," Victor muttered, so that Chloe just barely caught the words on her end. She smiled warily. AC might resent it, but the fact was, the longer he was out of the water, the more quickly his strength faded, meaning that he might become just an extra responsibility on the way out, and less of an asset.

"Either way," Chloe interrupted before AC could retort, "we're in the home stretch, from what I can see, there' a batch of people waiting at the top of the elevator, but otherwise, you've got little to worry about on the way out. Archer, do you have another one of those knock-out gas arrows?"

"One left," he said. "Like I was saying, though, they're still in the development phase."

"Yeah, well you're almost to the top floor. Will it work or won't it?" Chloe asked. She still had an eye on the Queen's flight, which seemed to be steering off-course.

"I think so. The first one did."

"Good. Give it a shot. We're running out of time."

"What do you mean we're running out of time?" Oliver demanded, more concerned than ever about the sudden change in Chloe's tone.

"Just go!" Chloe ordered as the doors of the elevator slid open. The boys all dropped to the floor, covering their mouths and noses as Oliver took aim at the wall opposite them and the remaining security guards lunged against them.

The arrow didn't go off.

Oliver cursed and the others jumped to their feet, caught in a vulnerable position as the guards tackled them. Victor managed to send one of them flying to a wall, where he slumped down, unconscious, and Bart ran circles around two of them, causing more trouble than good when they started firing at him, random bullets ricocheting wildly in the hallway. AC struggled hand-to-hand with a guard, a now even match with the depletion of his strength. He bought Oliver, who still had Clark slung over his shoulder, some time, though. Oliver raised his crossbow and faired a dart directly at the first one. Within instants, it detonated, releasing the gas from the first one into the room. As everyone in the room began coughing, only the team realized why, having the presence of mind to hold their breath and make a break for it while the guards began to drop like flies.

Chloe silently thanked God when she saw their signals break away and head for the exit.

"With no time to spare, either," she muttered to herself, checking again on the Queens.

"Mayday. Mayday," she could hear Robert Queen's voice. "Our pilot has abandoned ship. We're rapidly losing altitude, and we can't find the parachutes. Is anyone there? Mayday!"

Chloe wished she could respond, wished she could tell Robert Queen that on the other side of the globe, she and his son were doing everything in their power to help them.

"Impulse," she said. "Come get me and take me to the rendezvous."

Within seconds, Bart was at her side, albeit confused about the change in plans. Yet, without asking questions, ever-trusting Chloe's judgement, he swept her up in his arms, and a split second later they were beating the rest of the team back to their safe-zone in Smallville. AC and Victor walked in, AC in particular looking worse for the wear, but Chloe had eyes for only Oliver, who walked in last, bearing the weight of a still-lifeless Clark.

Chloe rushed to his side, eyes scanning him for injuries as he started to drop Clark to the floor. "No," she stopped him. "Over here." She helped him pull Clark to a window, which she promptly opened, allowing sunlight to stream undiluted onto Clark.

They all stood around him, watching Chloe kneel next to him. Oliver rested his hand on her shoulder, trying to find the words to explain to her that they needed to find someone who could help Clark. He couldn't understand why she was so fixated on this sunlight-thing. She seemed obsessed with the idea that it was going to help. How could he tell her she was being irrational?

Yet just as he opened his mouth to try to sway her, Clark Kent stirred. In a moment he was sitting upright, gasping for air. He looked around him in surprise, body tensing as the memory of where he had passed out seemed to come back to him. Just as quickly, he seemed to relax, but as an onslaught of questions formed on his lips, Chloe stopped him, explaining to him the Queens' situation, knowing he was the only one who could save them. Oliver listened to her with growing horror, realizing that what he was afraid of was already taking place.

"Clark," Chloe said, looking him squarely in the eyes. "You have to fly."

Clark looked ready to protest, but Chloe shook her head.

"We both know you can."

Clark nodded, and in an instant, he was gone, leaving only a gust of wind in his wake.

"Fly?" came the simultaneous question from every other mouth in the room.

Chloe looked up at Oliver and shrugged, though he could still see the anxiety in his eyes. "He's been working on it." She stood up and looked around at them. "We should get back to the hotel. You guys are a mess," she told them, putting on a brave face.

Oliver shook his head. She was definitely some kind of woman.

* * *

**Author's Comment: Yeah, I bet you guys thought I forgot. lol This chapter took me forever, I know. Hope it was still good!**

**As for Oliver and his team issues, I purposefully changed that about him because I decided that that was where Oliver's personality was most likely to be affected in this alternative universe.**

**BlueSuedeShoes**


	20. Ch 19: The Amiable Friar Tuck

**Author's Comment: Someone way back toward the first couple of chapters mentioned in a review that they hoped to see a Friar Tuck character. This chapter is all yours. ;)**

**BlueSuedShoes**

**Chapter 19**

**Introducing the Amiable Friar Tuck**

Clark ran. Trying not to think too hard about what he had to do, he allowed the wind to carry him, already feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation.

He couldn't pretend the weight of the world hadn't rested on his shoulders before. It had. Countless lives had hung in the balance of his decisions, his actions any number of times in his past. It had been a question of the grand scheme; it had been a personal matter.

And yes, it had involved heights. Several times now.

The trouble of the matter was that in spite of Chloe's seemingly infinite confidence in him - He'd never figure out what inspired that. - he hadn't exactly had a successful test flight.

According to Jor-El, of course, it was all psychological, but telling himself that it was all in his head didn't make unraveling years of acrophobia any easier.

But he knew he had to try. Any second now, the Queens could be hurtling for the ocean, which, if it didn't shatter their entire bodies on contact, would ultimately become their watery grave either way. Chloe was right. He was the only one who could save them. Bart might be able to get there quickly enough, but he couldn't haul two bodies across an ocean and still have the stamina to run on top of the water.

Somewhere in his head, he knew that what he was about to do was insane. Some small voice knew that all logic, every ounce of human science, told him that he was about to break the rules and fail miserably at it.

And yet, as Clark Kent's feet hit the very lest grain of sand on the east coast, suddenly, there was nothing beneath him but air, and once and for all, he silenced that voice.

* * *

Back at Chloe and Oliver's hotel room, Chloe was frantically dashing back and forth across the lavish suite, tending the cut on AC's black eye here, recharging Victor's batteries there, attempting to get Oliver to hold ice to his cut lip over there, and trying to get Bart to sit still...well, _everywhere_.

Mostly they were behaving themselves, other than Bart's inability to stay in one place and Oliver's stubborn inability to take care of _himself_ for a few seconds, and Chloe was able to fix them all up pretty well. Oliver, ever observant of all things Chloe, noticed that she was avoiding eye-contact with Victor for some reason. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why. As it provided ample distraction from the fact that his parents were in a plane hurtling for the Atlantic ocean, and he was sitting around letting Chloe fuss over a swollen lip, though, he honed all his energy in it. Victor was shooting Chloe questioning looks every five seconds, and Chloe was carefully looking anywhere _but_ at Vic.

MInutes later Chloe finally received the long-awaited phone call informing all of them that Oliver's parents were safe. It was Oliver's mother, rather than Clark, but she said that Clark had asked her to call Chloe first. Oliver spoke with her, and his parents explained that they had had made it to their airport in Europe. With imminent danger out of the way, they were continuing their trip to Seoul. With Clark's secret officially in the open to them, they also took a moment to thank Chloe personally, recognizing that she had been behind the orchestration of their rescue. Oliver listened with amusement as they stepped carefully around revealing anything to him. It was their guess that Chloe was involved. They had no idea of Oliver's hand in their rescue, which was fine with him. For the moment, he didn't think his parents really needed to know about his alternate identity.

The moment they hung up with Laura and Robert Queen, though, Victor appeared to quit restraining himself. No sooner had Chloe moved to slip her cell phone back in her pocket than he rose from his seat and grabbed Chloe's arm. Only because he was close enough did Oliver hear Victor say in a lowered voice, "We need to talk."

Chloe bit her lip, nervously eyeing the others. Finally she nodded in resignation. "Not in front of the others," she said back in equally hushed tones. She pulled Victor out of the sitting room and into her bedroom. Oliver watched them go dubiously. He wasn't jealous of Victor. But at the same time, he had a certain presentiment that Chloe should be dragging _him_ into her bedroom.

Inside her bedroom, Chloe sat down wearily on the hotel bed and looked at Victor. "I know," she sighed.

Victor was pacing back and forth. "Chloe, we have to _do _something. Did you _see_ those people?"

Chloe buried her face in her hands. Oh yes, she had seen them. She had seen the video feeds of almost every room in that facility, just as Victor had, and she had seen the experiments going on there.

Experiments on people.

Chloe could only guess how long they had been there and what had been done to them. Further research had revealed to her that Lex Luthor, not his father, owned that plant. It raised questions as to how Clark had ended up there, and whether or not it really had been Lionel to put him there. Perhaps Oliver's parents being in jeopardy and Clark's own peril had been unrelated events.

It was enough to make her head hurt, just trying to understand it. Would she ever understand the Luthor mind? There were times she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Chloe?" Victor said, pulling her back into the room with him.

"I know, Vic. I _know_. But what can we do?"

"The same thing we did today, Chloe. Throw in Clark's help..." he trailed off, his voice sounding hopeful.

Chloe looked at him. There was determination in his face. Victor Stone had once been a football star, she knew. He had always been a team-player, and from what she had learned about him over the years, he maintained a "no man left behind" motto, something he took very, very seriously.

Convincing Victor to team up with the others was one thing. He could fight alongside others easily. AC and Bart, they had agreed to this because they both owed Clark, and they both loved and respected her. It had been a favor, but she doubted as to whether they would willingly repeat the performance. As for Oliver and Clark, the two of them were very much loners. Accepting her help was one thing, but she doubted they would be interested in having a whole group "tagging along."

Oliver had said it himself. He didn't do teams.

Victor could almost read her thoughts. "Chloe, if anyone can convince them, you can. The guys in that room would do just about anything for you, including set aside their pride for a minute or two to save what looked to be nearly a hundred lives."

She smiled, rising to give him a hug. "Thanks, Vic. But I think you seriously overestimate my influence. I'm a sidekick," she said, thinking of how Oliver liked to call her that, "not a leader."

"I could argue with that pretty easily," he said, giving her a friendly squeeze in return, "but I know I won't convince you. So if leadership is what you're worried about, you ever notice the Jolly Green Giant in there ain't too shabby at it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Chloe chuckled. He had a point. Oliver might hate teams, but he was pretty darn good at leading one.

For a moment she found herself staring out the window of her room. The hotel suite had an incredible view of the entire Metropolis skyline. She hugged her chest for a moment, rubbing her hands over her arms as she felt a sudden chill. She wasn't sure what could be done, but she also knew that she couldn't turn her back on those people. Finally she turned back to look at Victor and nodded. "Even if it's just you and me, Vic. I promise we'll do something about it."

He nodded back, meeting her faint, weary smile with a more encouraging grin. "That's all I ask."

Taking heart in his confidence, she added cautiously, "But I don't think now is the time to talk about it. We've had a time of it today. I want them to enjoy the taste of victory and success if only for a few hours."

"No problem," he said understandingly before moving to hold the door open for her. He paused for a second and let it shut in order to give her another hug and a brief, friendly kiss on the cheek. "You were amazing today, Chloe. None of us could have pulled that off without you. Clark is lucky to have you."

Chloe almost choked up for a moment. Who said saving the world was a thankless task? She didn't respond for fear her voice would betray her, but simply fled through the door when he held it open again to make good her escape.

Outside Oliver quickly intercepted her. "You wanna tell me what that was about?" he asked as they watched Bart and AC release energy by fighting over the remote.

"Later," was her only reply.

"Hmmm, but I had so many other plans for later," he said, grinning as he slipped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against his chest.

"Do tell," she said, feeling her worries melt away for the moment.

"Well, I was think about making you feel very," he kissed her, "very," he kissed her again, "appreciated." He planted a more intense kiss on her lips and Chloe's hands slid to his face, closing her eyes. He pulled away to look at her. "Do you have any idea how eternally grateful I am to you for what you did here today?" he asked her seriously.

Chloe smiled softly. "Hey, they're practically my family, too. But yeah," she added, "I've got a pretty good idea." She reached up on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips. Then she gently pulled out of his arms and turned to the chaos that was the men-folk. "Anyone for take-out?" she asked, thinking the least she could do for these boys was feed them.

* * *

"Dr. Hamilton," Chloe gushed, taking the man's offered hand and shaking it, feeling not unlike she was meeting a celebrity.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. "Careful. I might get jealous."

Emil merely looked confused. "Please, call me Emil," he said, looking between the two of them and staring around him. "Erm...may I ask what why we're...here?" The amiable doctor was not really behaving oddly, all things considered. He had some right to be confused, considering he had expected to meet Mr. Robert Queen in an office, not his son and his son's girlfriend in a hotel room.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said, dragging Chloe back to the sofa to force her to sit, "but I have some things of a very discreet nature to discuss with you, and I had to make sure there was no chance of being overheard.

Emil looked between the two of them, sitting down in the armchair across from them, and quirked his eyebrow. "Do you always discuss things of a discreet nature in front of your reporter girlfriend and a complete stranger?"

Oliver chuckled. "No," he admitted, grinning slightly, "this would be a new practice for me."

Emil sighed and reached for the bottle of scotch sitting on the coffee table between them and poured himself a drink. "Enlighten me."

"First of all, congratulations. You're being awarded a grant for your research."

Emil choked on the scotch. He looked at Oliver like he must have lost his mind. "You haven't even talked to me yet."

Oliver's grin broadened. "I don't have to. Miss Sullivan here, aside from being a reporter and my girlfriend, is also my primary tech adviser-"

It was Chloe's turn to choke on her drink. His what?

"-and she's assured me that funding your programs would be a worthwhile endeavor." He looked at Chloe to back him up.

Catching on, Chloe rose to the occasion. "Absolutely," she nodded. "I've read all your work."

"And you understood it?" Emil asked in disbelieve.

"It was fascinating," she grinned. "I was particularly interested in your studies of unique astronomical events and anomalies. The research you've done on-"

"Chloe." Oliver interrupted her and Chloe's mouth closed abruptly.

"Sorry," she said, blushing. "I get carried away."

But Emil was clearly flattered. "I'm very impressed, Miss Sullivan. Are you a scientist yourself?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. Just a very big nerd."

"She's modest," Oliver said, to which Chloe shot him a furtive look of confusion but said nothing.

"So, Mr. Queen," Emil said, leaning forward and pressing his fingertips together, "what is this discreet matter you wished to discuss with me?"

"I'm glad you asked," Oliver said, and Chloe saw the smirk on his face that meant he knew things were going his way. "I want you to help with a top-secret program I have."

This was it, Chloe thought. She was finally going to hear his decision. She had spoken to Oliver late last night about what she and Victor had talked about, and he had been silent. He hadn't said anything to her all morning, but had remained deep in thought, the only exception being when she asked her to call Emil and have him relocate their meeting place. She knew then, that whatever he was thinking about, now included Doctor Hamilton.

"And by 'program' you mean..."

"I'm putting together a team of specialist for the purpose of tearing down certain unnecessary projects and protecting important resources. I want you to be in charge of research and development particularly regarding astronomical data, as well as aiding us in technological design. In return, you will be granted funding for all of your research projects and provided with all the equipment and resources you need."

Emil stared at him for several seconds. Finally he leaned forward and looked Oliver squarely in the eyes. "Say that in laymen's terms."

Oliver hesitated a second but then chuckled. "It means I'm forming a team of vigilantes in order to beat up bad guys and protect innocent civilians, and I want you to help us with alien stuff and weapons. In return, you get money."

Emil looked at him blankly. He blinked once, then twice. Then his mouth fell open slightly. "Are you having some sort of mid-life crisis? Is he having some sort of mid-life crisis?" he repeated, turning to Chloe.

Chloe, however was looking at Oliver, practically with tears in her eyes, and shook her head. "I don't think so," she managed to choke out, admiration clear in her voice.

Emil looked back and forth between the two of them. He looked up at the ceiling, and both Oliver and Chloe would have given a fair amount to know what went through his head at that moment, because when he looked back down to Oliver, he extended his hand. "Okay. I'm in."


	21. Ch 20: A Return to Life in Nottingham

**Author's Comment: I'm about to make a shameless plug. Writing this chapter somehow made me strongly reminiscent of my one-shot 'Sleeping Beauty.' It's one of my favorite pieces that I've written, so if you haven't read it, please do so! :)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 20**

**A Return to Life in Nottingham**

Two months later, Oliver's parent's had left Seoul and were spending some time reviewing their European companies. Chloe herself, well she really couldn't explain in words the way her life had changed.

Partly because she wasn't allowed to, Chloe thought with a smirk as she sipped her coffee and listened to Annette chatter away about the recent scandal Bruce Wayne had gotten himself involved in.

They had taken down Lex's facility. It had taken three days of planning, and Clark hadn't been able to help them because of the amount of meteor-rock on-site. He had his own life to worry about, of course, what with his debut as Superman - something Lois still knew nothing about other than what she wrote in her big article. But he was waiting in the wings if they needed him.

Emil had taken it upon himself to start designing Clark a lead suit that would prevent such problems in the future.

As for the others, they had all been far more ready to join up with the team than Chloe had expected, although then again, that was because Oliver was offering them paying jobs with benefits in exchange for, well, being themselves. Emil was also in the process of giving Victor a Queen Industries upgrade, and AC and Bart were making themselves pretty cozy with the concept of a semi-permanent residence. Of course, nothing could ever tie Bart down entirely, and there was little that could hold AC in a place where the largest body of water was a small river for long. That taken into consideration, Chloe could tell they both liked having a place to come 'home' to when they felt like it.

Chloe would never tell Oliver, but she was developing insomnia. Part of it was not her fault, but the rest of it...well, she couldn't seem to shut down her brain.

The part that was not her fault was the fact that she was Chloe Sullivan, snarky-mannered reporter for the Star City Gazette by day and Watchtower, mission-control for an elite team of superheroes by night. Not to mention best friend to one Superman/Clark Kent, girlfriend to Green Arrow/Oliver Queen/socialite, babysitter and mom to Bart, AC, and Victor, cousin of the constantly-in-need-of-girl-talk Lois Lane, and so much more. Being a reporter and friend to several heroes had been more than enough to keep Chloe on her toes once upon a time. Now, she was pretty certain there wasn't enough coffee in the world to keep her functioning.

But that wasn't all of it. Even with all that on her plate, Chloe might have found time for an hour or so of sleep at a time, not to mention the occasional power nap. The part of her insomnia that she blamed on herself was the part where any time she tried to sleep she was kept wide awake, her mind working a million miles an hour, recounting every detail of the day they had rescued Clark and Oliver's parents. She was being driven mad by the gnawing inclination that there was something she was missing, some intricate key that would explain everything that had happened that day.

Something wasn't adding up. She couldn't put her finger on what, but she just _knew_ that something was missing from the equation.

Why had Clark been in a facility that belonged to Lex? Almost entirely unguarded? And why wait nearly two decades to make another attempt on Robert and Laura Queen's lives? What had renewed Lionel's desire to take them out?

The same unbidden questions flashed through her mind again and again, refusing to allow her respite from the day or a chance to ease the bone-tired feeling she felt in her entire being.

She tried not to let it show, determined not to let Oliver, or any of the others, worry about her. They all seemed unfortunately prone to doing so regardless and, in Chloe's opinion, didn't need any added incentive. So, she trudged through each day one at a time, smiling brightly and acting like she was fine whenever the boys or anyone else was around.

* * *

If Chloe thought she was fooling anybody, Oliver thought shrewdly, she was seriously kidding herself.

He was watching her carefully, as yet unnoticed by the elevator. The minute he stepped off it he had caught sight of her, sitting at her desk, leaning her chin on her hand and staring emptily at her laptop. He watched as she gave an exhausted yawn, before blearily reopening her eyes to stare at the screen again. The unflattering glow of the LCD screen threw the dark circles under her somewhat bloodshot eyes into sharp relief. She blinked several times and then gave a weary sigh before her eyes darted up to the left, and Oliver guessed that she had been reading something and then suddenly realized that she hadn't comprehended any of it, forcing her to start over.

Her friend Annette kept glancing over at her with a raised eyebrow, and the little photographer, Jeremy was looking very concerned.

Finally he walked over to her, noting that her elbow kept slipping from the desk, giving her a bit of a start each time she started to nod off again. He decided that it might be a good idea to prod her awake before she fell asleep and woke up with a keyboard-pattern on her face.

"Tell me you love me," Oliver teased, waving coffee under her nose.

Chloe started violently and nearly fell out of her chair. "Oliver!" she gasped as she clambered awkwardly up from her current position of half chair, half floor.

"Woah there, Sidekick," Oliver said, helping her up. "You all right?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I'm fine. I'm just..."

"Caffeine-deprived?" Oliver suggested, offering up the coffee again.

"Yes!" Chloe breathed gratefully, taking the cup from his hands and taking a long, scorching draught. The moment she pulled her lips away, however, she grimaced. She turned to glare at Oliver suspiciously. "This," she said with contempt, "is decaf."

"It is not," Oliver defended. "And how can you tell anyway?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow, refusing to address a question that was, to her mind, absurd. Instead she said, accusation clear in her voice, "Why are you trying to slip me tainted goods?"

"I'm not trying anything! The girl at the counter probably made a mistake. Besides, decaf is not tainted goods. It happens to be good for you."

Her eyes narrowed still further.

Oliver held her glare as long as possible but finally broke. "Fine, fine, I hoped that if I got you off the caffeine you might actually get a good night's sleep tonight."

Chloe's mouth thinned considerably. She looked down at the useless coffee and up at Oliver and then back down to the coffee and finally back up at Oliver, who heaved a dramatic sigh and took the coffee, handing her his own.

"Here, take mine."

With a triumphant smile, she took a sip. The smile slid off her face instantly. She handed the coffee back to him. "You are a bad person."

He shrugged, taking a sip of decaf for himself. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Listen," he said, setting both cups down and then wrapping his arms around her, "why don't you take a night to come over and have a movie night with me? We haven't done that in ages. I miss you," he said teasingly, looking at her with pleading eyes.

Chloe's eyes darted guiltily to her computer.

"Whatever it is," Oliver told her, "I have great faith that it can wait."

Chloe sighed. Technically, it could. So why not? She missed Oliver, too. They hadn't had much time for themselves lately. She nodded. "Okay, sounds good." She allowed him to plant a soft kiss on her lips. "But you'd better get out of here for now. Otherwise I won't get anything done."

"Are you saying I distract you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

"Ollie."

"It's my great body, isn't it?" he asked, looking himself over. "Yeah, I'd distract me, too."

"Ollie," Chloe laughed, shoving him away. "Get _out_ of here!"

Chuckling, Oliver grabbed one of the decaf coffees and made his exit, but not without stealing another quick kiss.

Chloe sighed contentedly as she slipped back into her chair, her hand automatically reaching for the styrofoam cup and raising it to her lips. She took a sip from it absently and that started, turning her eyes to glare at the offending beverage.

* * *

Later that evening, much later than Oliver had been hoping for, a weary, beaten-down looking Chloe appeared in the doorway of his apartment.

"Hey, handsome," she joked, pecking him on the cheek before walking directly to his couch and collapsing on it. "Hello, you beautiful, wonderful creature," she said, hugging one of the pillows to her. "I promise never, ever to leave you again. What's that? No, there could never be anyone else. My sofa at home means nothing to me. It's you I love."

She sighed heavily and her eyes closed.

Oliver snorted, shaking his head at her dramatics. "If I weren't so worried about you, I'd think this was cute."

"Who's worried? Why worry?" was Chloe's partially coherent response, muffled by the pillow she now had her face buried in.

"Chloe, when was the last time you slept properly? And I mean a minimum of seven hours."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she said, removing the pillow from her face.

Oliver returned with blankets and the usual pints of ice cream. "Sidekick, you are running yourself into the ground. Are you sure you can handle-"

"Don't even attempt to finish that sentence," Chloe cut him off.

But Oliver's jaw was set when he sat down beside her and handed over the ice cream. "Chloe, I'm worried about you. I'm serious. When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

"Oliver," Chloe waved her hand dismissively at him. "I'm fine. You're being hypersensitive."

He continued to look at her, a determined expression in his eyes.

She raised her hands in surrender. "I don't know, okay! I've just been having a little trouble sleeping lately."

"Chloe," Oliver said gravely, "I know you'll never listen, but I have to say it anyway: you're taking on too much. Maybe..." but he couldn't finish his statement. He wanted to tell her she needed to stop playing On-Star for the team, but the truth of the matter was that they needed her. He was too selfish to tell her to stop.

Chloe raised a knowing eyebrow at him. "Maybe what? I'm not quitting my job at the Gazette. And I'm not about to ditch you and the guys. You can barely get your tights on without me," she added cockily.

"They are _not_ tights," Oliver grumbled, leaning back into the couch. "Still, Chloe. I know the others aren't working a day job, but I am, and I'm somehow managing to get some sleep every once in a while."

Chloe shrugged. "I work harder than you," she teased. "Let's put in the movie."

"Not until I get a straight answer. Chloe, something's been bothering you. What's the real reason you aren't getting enough sleep?"

Chloe sighed impatiently. "I just...I haven't been able to _get_ to sleep. That's all."

Oliver's concerned face became still more pronounced. "Why not?"

She gave and aggravated groan. "I don't know. I just can't seem to shut my brain off."

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. "And what is it that your brain can't stop working on?"

"I don't know. Stuff," she said ambiguously, snuggling gratefully against him.

"Hmmm, I can see how 'stuff' could really keep you up to all hours," Oliver teased, gently pinching her side and making her squeal. She swatted his hand away irritably.

"Don't be mean," she whined into his side, the words muffled.

He chuckled. "Why don't we skip the movie for tonight?"

"Mmmm," she muttered. Sitting beside Oliver like this felt wonderful. She could almost feel all the anxiety leaving her body for the moment. She knew it would return later, probably with reinforcements, but right then, with his arm slung protectively around her, she felt safe, calm. Who cared what the Luthors were up to? Who cared about the evil in the world? Maybe they could handle things. A little sleep would be just the thing to make her feel up to the task. And right now, she actually felt like she could manage it.

Oliver, meanwhile, was pulling her into his lap and tilting her face up for a kiss. "You know," he said, teasing her bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away to speak properly, "I can think of a few ways to clear your head," he told her, a roguish glint in his eyes.

Chloe gave a short, breathy laugh. Normally, she would have been nervous. She and Oliver had gotten fairly heated a few times, but they'd never actually..._done it_, Chloe finished the thought lamely in her mind. She was pretty sure she knew what Oliver was thinking, but she was too sleepy to tell him that she was...well, too sleepy.

Oliver caught on quickly however, when her body went more or less limp in his arms, communicating to him that she'd actually dozed off mid-kiss. Another time, he might have tried to rouse her, but taking into account how much she needed this sleep, he didn't try anything, just lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom.

He had to laugh to himself as he flipped over the covers and laid her down. Until Chloe, Oliver couldn't really say he'd ever known what it felt like to be sexually frustrated. So between waiting for the right time and being constantly thus thwarted, he had a feeling he was becoming the butt of some sort of cosmic joke.

Sighing, he climbed in next to her and pulled her to his chest, burying his face in her neck.

"You owe me," he muttered against her skin.

* * *

**Author's Comment: Just a brief interlude, sort of a break from the action of the last couple of chapters. Hope everyone is enjoying their summers.**

**BlueSuedeShoes**


	22. Ch 21: A Night With Our Hero

**Chapter 21:**

**A Night With Our Hero...Interrupted**

It was in the middle of the night that Chloe's eyes shot open. Revelation, in the form of her cell phone alarm had come to her.

Chloe had purposefully set her alarm for two o'clock, in order to remind herself that she had a meeting with Emil in half an hour. Accidentally, however, she had set it for two in the morning.

Oliver had grumbled in response to the irritating noise. "What is that?" he groaned blearily, still half-asleep.

"Nothing," Chloe had whispered. "I've got it." She'd climbed out of bed to find the offending phone and turn it off. Tossing it carelessly back in her purse, she made her weary way back to the bed, noting that she had no memory of how she'd gotten there in the first place.

"Who was it?" Oliver muttered, pulling her back to him, under the misconception that someone had been calling her.

"Nobody. Just an alarm."

Oliver would have asked why she had set an alarm for such an obscene hour, but he had already asleep again, or on the brink of it, which was why it had been particularly unpleasant when Chloe's eyes shot open and her body shot up.

"Oh my god," she said. "An _alarm_! It was a warning!"

Oliver, now fully awake, made a disgruntled sound and pulled his pillow over his head. "Yes it was. Go to sleep." His arm reached blindly out for her, grappling with the sheets before finding her arm and attempting to drag her back down beside him.

Chloe didn't allow it, though. She shook him off and then roughly pulled the pillow away from Oliver's head. "Ollie, I figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" he sighed, sitting back up.

"What happened!"

"Something happened?" he asked bemusedly.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Jeez, Ollie, try to keep up."

He glared at her.

"Lionel didn't try to kill your parents."

Oliver stared at her with a skeptical expression. Then, after a lengthy pause, he shook his head and laid back down. "Okay, no more ice cream before bed for _you_."

But Chloe was shaking him again, not allowing him to go back to sleep. "No, I'm serious! I mean, he did when you were a kid, but not this time. Think about it! Why would he wait so long and then suddenly try again?"

"If you're asking me to try to fathom the mind of that-"

'No, that's what _I've_ been trying to do," Chloe laughed. "I can't believe I didn't see it before," she shook her head at how blind she'd been.

Oliver arched a brow, clearly still skeptical, and propped himself up on his forearms. "All right, I'll bite. If Lionel didn't try to kill them, who did?"

"Lex!"

Oliver blinked. Then he sighed. "Lionel. Lex. It's practically the same thing."

But Chloe was shaking her head vehemently. "I don't think so. I think Lionel is on our side."

Oliver's jaw dropped. Then he shook himself. "You've lost it, Chloe."

"Well, I mean, not on _our_ side, per se, but on Clark's side."

"You're not making any sense."

"Come on, Ollie. Remember what you told me? About how Lionel told you about Oedipus and not being able to escape your fate?"

"Yeah..." Oliver responded slowly, not sure what point she was trying to make.

"And how about the fact that when we found Clark, he was in a factory owned by Lex?"

Oliver nodded, still confused.

"Lex was the one who kidnapped Clark. He was the one who was trying to be sure that Clark couldn't come to the rescue."

"So Lionel fits in how?" Oliver asked, ready to believe at least that much of her explanation, but not the part where Lionel was helping them.

"He was warning you. He wasn't gloating. Lionel's too smart to let on that he's got anything to do with a murder. He would feign innocence and ignorance to the last moment, no matter what. He's not going to make cryptic, incriminating little remarks like that. He _wanted_ you to figure it out! It all makes sense!"

Oliver looked less-than-convinced. "Right. If he really wanted to help, why not just tell me flat out that my parents were heading for a watery grave?"

Chloe smirked at him. "Would you have believed him?"

"Well, no, probably not," Oliver admitted. "I would have thought it was-"

"-a trap," Chloe finished. "Exactly. We would have wasted time trying to figure out how to avoid the trap and might not have gotten there in time."

"Why not just spring Clark himself?"

"He probably didn't know where Clark was, just that Lex had him...or maybe he didn't even know that much. He just knew that if we knew your parents were in trouble, we'd find Clark first thing."

"Okay, but why would Lionel care if my parents were going to be murdered? Wouldn't he just sit back and enjoy the show?" Oliver made his last, feeble protest.

Chloe chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," she answered slowly. "It's been a long time since the Lionel we once knew tried to put your parents out of the picture. Since then he's made a couple of claims to have changed. Clark said..." she paused, trying to sort out an explanation that sounded remotely plausible. "A couple of years ago, Clark said that Lionel was...kind of possessed by Clark's dead father - that's the easiest way to explain it, anyway - and since then, Lionel's claimed that he's some sort of vessel for Clark's father, that he wants to help Clark. It's obvious enough that Lionel knows Clark's secret, if nothing else. But with all the history we had with Lionel, we didn't exactly believe he wanted to help. How could we? It was too dangerous to trust him." She shook her head. "So, if we labor under the assumption for one minute that Lionel was telling the truth...then maybe he's altered his strategy. He knows none of us trust him, so he's been using that."

"We trust him to be untrustworthy," Oliver provided, remembering what his mother had said on the matter. _It's almost the same thing_, she had said.

Chloe nodded. "Exactly."

Oliver watched her for a moment, amused by the self-satisfied expression on her face. "You're very proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Extremely," she said, grinning. "I can't believe I didn't figure it out until now."

"You should sleep more often," he teased, pushing himself all the way up to kiss her.

"Hmm, I guess so," she said against his lips, breath hiking when she felt his hand sliding onto her waist. "Ollie," she protested.

Oliver didn't get the hint in her tone, though, he was already pulling her back down, dragging her on top of him and moving his hands down to her thighs.

Chloe struggled to remember why she was stopping him. "Ollie."

"Chloe," Oliver breathed, his lips moving over her jaw line sensuously.

Chloe's eyes closed as she felt her thighs tensing with desire. "Mmm...Oliver. Oliver. Wait," she struggled.

The last word finally catching his attention, Oliver paused, his breath still warming her ear. "For what?" he asked.

"I have to call Clark."

Oliver drew his head away and dropped it to the pillow. "I'm assuming there's a very good reason why you have to do it right this second?" he asked, sounding not unlike a petulant child.

She nodded, trying not to laugh at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands fell away from her, indicating for her to go.

Chloe felt somewhat bad as she fled the room, but she didn't want to lose any time. It had already been months since the near fatal crash, and she didn't know what had been done to the fake pilot that Clark had dragged back to be brought into custody. That man was the only one who could prove Lex had hired him. Up until now he'd been silent, but they'd just been assuming it was Lionel, so there was no need to press him. Now, maybe they could cut him a deal if he confessed. They had more cards in their hands if they were correctly guessing who his boss was. She had to call Clark immediately or risk the possibility that he was on death row. Years of experience had taught her never to put anything off. The devil was in the delay.

* * *

A few days later, Chloe and Oliver were celebrating the fact that Lex Luthor had been placed under arrest for attempted homicide. They had been able to convince the fake pilot to testify once they promised him witness protection and a reduced sentence.

They had just received the news, and Oliver was pouring Chloe a glass of champagne.

"Well," he said, hardly believing the strange turn things had taken as he handed her the glass, "congratulations, Sidekick."

She grinned as she accepted the glass. "Thank you very much. But I imagine this is a little premature. You can hardly pretend Lex won't have access to all the layers he could ever need, and my faith in the American justice system is pretty low if I'm being honest."

"Would you not spoil my perfect mood with realism, please?" Oliver glared, taking a sip of his own glass. "Now," he added, sliding a hand over her hip, "I think that I deserve a kiss."

Chloe laughed. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"What for?"

"For always going along with your insane ideas because my faith in you is so boundless," he grinned.

"Hmmm, you're right. That does deserve a kiss." Chloe set her glass aside so she could slide her arms around his neck and reach up on her toes to press her lips to his.

Oliver met her lips greedily, putting aside his own glass to pull her closer. Slowly he began dragging her toward the couch. "Have I mentioned," he said, running his lips down her neck, "how exceptionally pretty you are looking?"

"Hmmm, no I don't think so."

"Well you absolutely, definitely, without question are," he said, placing several kisses around her neck while he slipped a hand under her shirt to rest on the small of her back. Chloe felt her pulse quickening at the contact. The back of Oliver's legs reached the couch and he allowed himself to fall backwards onto it. Chloe laughed as he took her with him, his hands sliding over her thighs and pulling her legs to either side of him.

"Why, Mr. Queen, if I didn't know any better," Chloe smirked, her hands threading into his hair, "I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

Oliver kissed her in response. "Whether or not I'm trying is not the question. What inquiring minds _really _want to know is whether I'm succeeding."

Chloe's lips had already parted to respond, when the door of Oliver's apartment burst open. She toppled off his lap in surprise, and Oliver looked up to see Bart raiding his fridge as AC and Victor entered.

"Hey, 'licious!" Bart greeted. "Why are you on the floor?" he asked, frowning when he saw Oliver giving her a hand up.

"A better question," Oliver said through gritted teeth, his other hand carefully resting between his legs to hide his current state, "is what you guys are doing in my apartment."

"We came to celebrate," Bart said.

"And we brought food," AC added, lifting a couple of bags of take-out food.

"Bart insisted we get Mexican," Victor admitted, grabbing one of the bags and bringing it over to the counter to unload, "but in exchange, we got him to promise that the next three times we get take-out, we get to have something _other_ than Mexican."

Oliver's intention to throw them all out died on his tongue with one look at Chloe. There was an amused, pleading, _Oh, let's just let them this one time,_ look in her eyes, and he knew he'd lost out again.

"Fine," he muttered, "but I demand compensation when they're gone."

She gave him an apologetic look. "I've got a story to work on."

He dropped his head. "You are killing me here, woman."

She got up cheerily. "Have a taco. It'll make you feel better," she told him, eyes dancing as she tried to pull him off of the couch.

Oliver groaned. "In a minute."

Chloe was about to ask why, but her eyes dropped to his lap and she stopped. "Right," she smirked. "Take your time."

* * *

And so it went.

The next night, Oliver went to Chloe's place. They were passionately making out, tongues dueling, and Oliver had her pressed against the wall. Chloe was finally starting to jump on board with the idea, too. She had been nervous about the idea of sleeping with Oliver for a while, for more than one reason. There were...expectations...on both sides, or so she assumed. She knew Oliver was extremely experienced, and she was...not so experienced, to put it mildly.

But pressing desire was beginning to overcome insecurities, and Chloe had Oliver's shirt half-way unbuttoned when Lois burst in the apartment.

"You are not going to _believe _what I just found out," she said irritably, heading straight for Chloe's liquor cabinet and grabbing a bottle of scotch. She turned as she was pouring herself a glass and saw the two of them. "Oh, hi Oliver."

Oliver, his shirt considerably rumpled, but already buttoned back up, was leaning against the wall panting, rather red in the face. He glared at her.

"Jeez," Lois said. "What has your knickers in a twist?" She looked at Chloe, who had valiantly collected herself and was heading to get a drink herself.

"How did you get here?" Chloe asked.

"Well, I'd been planning a surprise visit, so I've been driving all day, but you haven't asked me what I found out, yet!"

Chloe closed her eyes. "What did you find out?" she asked, trying to keep herself from laughing. She glanced at Oliver, who looked ready to grab Lois by the seat of her pants and physically launch her from the room. Chloe gave him a warning look and turned to Lois, who was spilling some big gossip about how the editor of the Daily Planet had announced early retirement, and Perry White was rumored to be the new replacement.

* * *

Another evening, Chloe was at the mansion, and the thin pretense of going over plans on who to send to take care of the crime lord in Chicago was dropped almost immediately. Sitting on the desk in Oliver's study, she had her legs wrapped wantonly about him, and Oliver was doing things to her not lawful to be uttered.

And then the phone rang.

"Don't answer it," Chloe muttered breathlessly.

"Wasn't planning to," Oliver teased.

"Thank God."

The phone quit ringing and for a moment they forgot about it.

Until it started ringing again. Oliver dropped his forehead against her neck, breathing heavily. "I'll just...get rid of them. Okay? Five seconds," he begged at her frustrated groan.

"Five?"

"Two," he promised, yanking the phone haphazardly out of his pocket. He flipped it open. "This is Queen," he said, still breathing heavily. "This is a bad time. Can I - " He stopped. "Mom!" he said in surprise. Chloe nearly toppled to the floor. "No, no! I was just...well never mind. No, Of course I've always got time for you, Mom. No. I'm sorry. I knew you were going to call this evening, I just forgot." He looked helplessly at Chloe, who was already buttoning her shirt back up, waving a dismissive hand at him as she caught her breath.

By the time Oliver got off the phone with his parents - several hours later - Chloe had fallen asleep. Not to mention having sex with his girlfriend right after talking to his mother and father felt a bit...weird.

* * *

"The fates are against us," Chloe said over breakfast the next morning. She was eating quickly. She had to get to City Hall as soon as possible to cover a scheduled protest that morning.

"I think our friends and family are against us," Oliver said wearily, poking angrily at the omelet on his plate.

"Either way," she grumbled, snatching the coffee Mike had poured into a thermos for her. "I have to go."

Oliver rose to give her a kiss goodbye, one that made her knees weak. "Mmm...Ollie, _don't_," she begged. "I'm going to have a hard enough time concentrating today as it is."

Oliver chuckled and reluctantly released her.

"We'll get back to this tonight," Chloe promised, but Oliver grimaced.

"You forgot."

"Forgot what?" Chloe frowned, already in the doorway.

"I leave for Gotham tonight. Won't be back for a week."

Chloe groaned. "It's Thursday?"

Oliver nodded, a weak smirk on his face.

"Fine. One second." She ran back up to him and planted a hard kiss on his lips. "Stop by to say goodbye if you get a chance."

Oliver nodded. "Love you."

Chloe paused, a startled look flashing across her face that Oliver didn't see because she was facing away. "Love you, too!" she told him over her shoulder, already flying down the hall, now very late for her destination.

When she jumped in the cab Oliver had called for her and gave the driver his instructions, she had to stop for a moment, glancing back at the mansion before it passed out of view. She dropped her head backward and closed her eyes.

She wasn't sure if Oliver had noticed or not, but they'd finally said it.

Oliver, meanwhile, was feeling light years better than he might have, all things considered. He'd said it, and not only had Chloe not freaked out, she'd said it back.

He grinned as he took another sip of coffee.


	23. Ch 22: A Night of Charades

**Author's Comment: A few things, actually. First: I am approaching the last chapter swiftly, and I will try to get it up as soon as possible. Second, I am considering changing the title of this story (something to fit with the Robin Hood allegory), but I don't know what it will be yet. Finally: I know I don't generally do the hyper-detailed description thing - especially of clothes. That is because while I am always sorely tempted to do so, I assume that most people don't really care and/or want to use their own imagination to picture things. However, in this chapter, I finally allowed myself the fun I'm always wanting to have. Deal with it. ;)**

**Chapter 22:**

**A Night of Charades**

"So explain this to me again?" Chloe asked in an amused tone as she applied her makeup in the mirror one morning.

"I need a favor, Chlo. Just one teeny, itty bitty little favor."

"No, I got that. What I didn't understand was why you need me to come out to Gotham."

"Can't you just take my word for it?"

Chloe sighed. "Not really. Bruce, if I couldn't come out to Edge City with Ollie when he left last week, what makes you think I could come out to Gotham for you?"

It was three months since Oliver's trip to Gotham, and Chloe would have loved to have gone. A trip together might be exactly what the two of them needed for the still evasive 'alone time.' Since his previous trip, things at Queen Industries had had Oliver going non-stop. Not to mention George had been sending Chloe on so many out-of-town assignments, she'd barely been able to keep up with running the Justice League (as they'd finally dubbed themselves).

Not that the relationship was suffering or anything...not really. Chloe and Oliver were doing as well as ever, but they still hadn't found time to consummate their relationship. Chloe had her suspicions about this matter. She was beginning to suspect that Oliver was putting it off on purpose. Why in the name of all that was good and decent he would do that, she hadn't the slightest, but after three months and still nothing, she knew that something was off-kilter.

She just wished she knew why.

Bruce's response was arrogant and self-assured as ever. "Because you love me best."

Chloe sighed, glad he couldn't see her amused smile. "Whether or not that's true," she teased, "the fact remains that I'm still tied up in Metropolis."

Chloe could hear Bruce getting frustrated on the other end.

"Why won't you just tell me what's going on, Bruce?"

"I need an alibi," he said finally.

Chloe dropped her eyeliner in surprise. Leaning her arm on the counter she said bluntly, "All right, either this has something to do with your alter ego or you're planning to rob a bank. Please tell me it isn't the latter."

There was a long pause. Then finally, slowly, "Alter ego?"

Chloe waited.

"Did Oliver -"

"Don't worry. He didn't out you. I figured it out before I even met Ollie. I tend to obsess over things like that."

Another pause.

"Right. Okay, well let's put it this way then: I'm not planning to rob a bank."

"Glad to hear it. But it doesn't change the fact that I can't go anywhere."

"Please, Chlo. For one night. You'll be back before you know it and your editor won't care because I can promise you the biggest batman story in years."

Chloe bit her lip, sorely tempted to accept the offer. "What would I need to do?"

"Be my date to the governor's masquerade ball. That's it. I can explain all the whys in person, but it's difficult over the phone."

"No, I get that," Chloe stopped him. "It's the 'date' part that concerns me."

"Oliver won't mind. He knows all about...me. And you can tell him everything. I'll back you. Heck, I'll get Alfred to back you if it helps."

Chloe mulled it over. George wouldn't mind the sudden trip if she brought back a story, but would Oliver be okay with her posing as Bruce's date? It might make him...

Jealous.

Okay, so it wasn't the worst possible scenario, all things considered. And she would be up front about it. She'd call Oliver as soon as she hung up with Bruce.

"Okay," she said at length. "I'll do it."

"You'll do it?" he repeated, relief evident in his voice. "I knew I could count on you, Chloe. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Bruce." She hung up.

Bruce, on the other end, couldn't believe that Oliver's prediction from a long time ago had been right. He still remembered the conversation.

"_So she knows? Everything?"_

_Oliver nodded._

"The_ everything?"_

"The_ everything."_

"_Oliver, you do realize she's a reporter, right?"_

"_Yeah, no I remember that part."_

"_And she hasn't outed you?"_

"_Nope."_

"_Man," Bruce clapped Oliver on the shoulder, "marry her."_

_Oliver had chuckled._

"_Well, either she's the perfect woman or you're a completely naive imbecile."_

_Oliver shrugged. "Time will tell."_

"_I just don't get it," Bruce shook his head. "Why would you tell her?"_

"_It was a desperate situation."_

"_You would have told her anyway," Bruce accused._

"_Yep."_

"_You're a love-sick idiot."_

_Oliver had just shot him a maddeningly superior look. "Wait and see. I'll put good money down that one of these days you'll be 'fessing up and asking for a favor yourself."_

And so Oliver's ominous prediction had finally come true...although even he was surprised that it was specifically Oliver's girlfriend he was asking, not some other woman _he_ was madly in love with. He needed someone to cover for him and pretend to have been with him while he made a careful point of letting Batman be seen. There was a reporter stalking him, and he'd discovered that he wasn't hoping for the latest playboy antics or business scoop, he was waiting for Bruce to don the mask.

He hadn't told Chloe that he had called up her friend Clark Kent as well. He and Clark had met just under a year ago, when Clark had suddenly appeared on-scene and caught a helicopter that was about to crash straight into the Wayne Enterprises building. Since then, the two of them had formed an unusual friendship, often goading one another, still more often calling each other in for favors.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't mind, Ollie?"

"Yeah, look, don't worry about it. Bruce already called me right before you did because he wanted to be sure I'd let you go. For one thing, we both know I can't stop you if you want to go. For another, it doesn't bother me anyway, so you can go with a free conscience."

"You're wonderful."

"I know. Just bear in mind that I now know you're willing to scamper across the country for Bruce but not for me. I intend to spend an allotted amount of time pouting before I'll let you make it up to me."

Chloe laughed. "And how am I going to make it up to you?" she teased suggestively.

Oliver tried not to think about the possibilities. "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Chloe stifled a sigh. She could think of several ways to make it up to him, but the way things had been going with them, she had a feeling he'd find a sneaky, conniving way to stop her regardless.

"So you know this thing is a masquerade, right?" Oliver changed directions.

"Hmm?" Chloe started. "Oh, yeah. Bruce mentioned that."

"So what you're saying is I should send you a dress and a mask."

She laughed. Oliver loved trying to give her expensive gifts, mostly because she was so stubborn about accepting them. "Sorry, Ollie. My other billionaire has already beat you to the punch."

"You take gifts from him but not me?" he demanded. "I sense a double-standard."

"Please," Chloe scoffed. "Apparently I'm saving his kevlar-clad butt. It's the least he can do."

"Whatever. I'm buying you a new coffee machine when I get back."

"Which will be when, may I ask?" Chloe asked, deciding to ignore the gift-threat.

"Soon."

She sighed. That was what he always said.

* * *

"Bruce, this dress is -"

"Stunning?"

"_Heavy,_" Chloe whined.

He chuckled. "Relax, you look amazing."

Chloe sighed. "Maybe. But I'm almost afraid to move. I feel like any moment the thin little stretch of fabric holding this thing up is going to give way and beads will go scattering across the ballroom floor, hopefully distracting people from my half-naked self when they do."

Bruce tried and failed not to smirk. "You say that like it would be so terrible. Trust me. I had that dress flown in from Paris. If it doesn't last the night, you'll be getting an entire new wardrobe as an apology."

"Paris?" Chloe repeated flatly. "Do I want to know how much you spent on this?"

"I'd say that's a no," he said, stepping out of the limo.

Chloe sighed. "Right. Well, lead me on, Batsy," she winked, extending a gloved hand to Bruce so he could help her out as well. She was instantly met by the false-daylight of cameras wildly flashing, the crowd of paparazzi creating a loud hum in her ears as they shouted questions above each other.

No one in the media swarm recognized the mysterious blonde on Bruce Wayne's arm. They knew it had to be Wayne only because of the plates on the limo. And of course the tall, broad figure cut by the man matched his description.

Few had eyes for Bruce that evening, save for one, who was determinedly waiting for Bruce to give something away, anything to prove that his hunch was right and Wayne was Batman.

All other eyes were locked on the woman gracing his arm. They had already become numb to the barrage of tall, thin, supermodels swept before them in an array of reds, blues, and golds, all carrying themselves aloof and jauntily. Strutting down the carpet and relishing in the cameras and attention.

This woman, on the other hand, had her mask firmly in tact, her dark lashes turned away shyly, and clung bashfully to Wayne's arm as he swept her out of the limelight.

Unlike the towering, skeletal breed that had been marched before them so far, she was petite and glowing with comfortable healthiness...beautiful in a "girl-next-door," Donna Reed type way. The kind of beauty that didn't flash itself proudly before you but slowly and softly charmed you into appreciating its shimmering light. She was draped magnificently in a midnight blue gown, the halter top bodice arrayed in a glory of blue and silver crystal beads, ruched across her waist and gathering at the hip before extending into an a-line cloud of chiffon, still more beading and delicate silken rose petals and buds scattered across its folds. She wore matching elbow-length gloves, and one hand carefully lifted her skirts to keep her from treading on them while the other was carefully wrapped around Bruce's strong arm.

Chloe's breath of relief was audible once they were inside the doors of the building and Bruce chuckled teasingly. "I thought you'd be used to that by now. How long have you and Queen been dating?"

Chloe just shook her head. "I don't know how anyone _ever_ gets used to that."

"Well, you did fine. Let's get a drink, shall we?"

Chloe smiled. Bruce was suave as ever, still teasing, still as much of a flirt as he had been the first day she met him, and still as much of a harmless friend.

Chloe was having a pleasant enough time. She would find out the next morning that while she and Bruce were enjoying their evening, Clark was running around dressed in a Kevlar suit, stopping about nineteen robberies, including the theft of a priceless painting in the Gotham museum of Modern Art, purposefully being seen by as many security guards and policeman as possible. Bruce had already removed his mask to leave no doubt in anyone's mind that he had been at the masquerade the whole night.

Chloe, on the other hand, was keeping her mask very much in place, suddenly appreciating the liberty of wearing one. Unrecognized by anyone, she was able to enjoy socializing (or not) without the pressure of being known. It was unlikely that they would even be able to match her name to the photos taken outside. A couple of Oliver's colleagues recognized her after a while, but they were the select few who had gotten to know Chloe well enough that she didn't mind whether they knew it was her. Leanne was actually there, representing Mr. Queen since Oliver was still in Star City, and when she found Chloe, she recognized her immediately. Leanne had opted for a less extravagant dress than Chloe, but looked very pretty in her periwinkle blue taffeta. Leanne spent at least an hour with Chloe trapping unsuspecting people into giving their opinion on certain things - especially their opinion of a certain blonde billionaire's recent girlfriend - for Chloe to hear.

"I love masquerades, don't you?" Leanne asked as they left an oil tycoon's company. "It's delightfully fun to watch people pretend they know who you are because they're too embarrassed to admit they don't recognize you."

Chloe nodded in agreement, amused. While Leanne was scheming for untainted public opinion on Chloe Sullivan, Chloe was doing a little plotting of her own. There was a handsome man with sandy brown hair shooting Leanne looks from across the room. Chloe had pointed him out to Leanne at one point, and she had responded by blushing bright red and making some quip about how Chloe could tell whether or not he was good looking when he was wearing a black and silver mask to cover a third of his face.

"Trust me, I have a sixth sense for these things," Chloe had teased.

Now, with careful movements, Chloe strategically guided Leanne across the floor, 'accidentally' bumping Leanne into her admirer. The resulting conversation was full of awkward cuteness and eventually led to the man asking Leanne to dance. Forgetting entirely about her company, Leanne abandoned Chloe to be swept off her feet.

"Playing matchmaker?" asked Bruce's amused voice. Chloe turned to see his eyes dancing with humor. Chloe often wondered how much of Bruce's lightheartedness around her was feigned. From what Oliver had told her, Bruce had never really gotten over the loss of his parents, and being Batman had taken its toll on his private life. Yet, when he was around her he seemed at the very least to have a well-developed sense of humor. She hoped, rather than fully believed, that it wasn't _all_ an act.

"I thought Leanne could use a little push. Care to dance, Mr. Wayne?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Miss Sullivan."

Chloe smiled as he led her onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. It wasn't long, however, before they were interrupted.

"May I cut in?"

Chloe caught the arrogant smirk on Bruce's face just before she turned to see an attractive man in a green mask.

"I'm almost tempted to say no," Bruce teased. "After all she _is_ my date. What do you think, Chloe?" he asked, turning to her for her opinion. Based on the happy flush of her cheek, he took his answer with a melodramatic sigh. _"Fine."_ As he handed her off, though, he added, "Not for long, though. Remember she's my alibi, too."

Chloe had to shake her head as her new partner's hands took a more brazen hold on her waist. "Don't you think it's a little, well, _stupid_ for _you_ to be wearing a green mask?"

Oliver smirked. "I missed you, too."

"I mean, really, there's an entire rainbow of colors out there for you. You happen to look pretty good in blue, you know."

"You happen to look pretty good in blue yourself," he teased, casting an appreciative eye on her dress.

Chloe sighed, pleased with the compliment. Finally she asked the all-important, "What are you doing here?"

"Well I actually had a business free evening, and while_ you_ may not be willing to hop across the continent for _me_, I have no such inhibitions." He grinned at her. "And I really did miss you." He winked at her through the mask.

"So how are things in Edge City?"

"Persistently dull. How are things at home?"

"Just as bad."

"You know, Hal is coming home next week. He'll probably stop by Star City to see us."

"Will he?"

He nodded. "My parents are coming back, too."

Chloe glowed. "Really? I feel like they've been gone forever."

"I'll be home by then, too," he added. Chloe frowned, noticing something slightly off in his voice. He was thinking about something. Something important.

"What's going on?"

"Hmm?" he looked startled. "Nothing. We're planning a big welcome-home cocktail party for them."

"That's nice. How're the boys? I haven't talked to any of them all night."

"Oh, they're good. I've got Bart looking after Star City, and Victor and AC are splitting Metropolis between them for the moment."

Chloe opened her mouth to ask a question, but Oliver leaned over to kiss her.

"Did I mention I missed you?" he asked against her lips before kissing her again. Chloe felt her thoughts growing slowly fuzzy thanks to the soft pressure of his lips against her own.

"Don't get any big ideas, Robin Hood," Chloe said after a moment, finally pushing him back a little bit. "I'm going home with someone else tonight, remember?"

Oliver scowled - even hidden behind the mask Chloe had learned to recognize the signs of his displeasure. "I dislike this plan. We should invent a new one."

"Oh relax. I plan to let Alfred cook for me and then _maybe_ take in a movie if I haven't already collapsed from exhaustion by then."

"And Bruce?"

"Well, I do have to keep her right next to me the _whole_ night," Bruce's voice interrupted their conversation. "You know, because I wouldn't want her to have to lie should my whereabouts be called into question." He grinned smugly at the two of them. "I cam to steal her back," he informed the highly displeased Oliver. He disentangled Chloe from Oliver's arms and pulled her away just as the song ended and transitioned smoothly into a new one. "Don't worry, Jolly Green. I'll take extra good care of her."

Oliver knew, deep down that Bruce was joking, but really, he wanted to throttle him, scoop up Chloe and keep her for himself for the next _year_. After being away for an entire week yet again, he was starting to go insane he missed her so much. He also knew that Chloe was growing suspicious about their lack of intimacy, but he'd made up his mind. He wanted them to wait.

He had his reasons.


	24. Ch 23: The Lion Heart Returns to England

**Author's Comment: The final chapter - so titled because every Robin Hood story is supposed to end with the return of King Richard, regardless of the absurdities of the most recent movie. Nothing against Russell Crow, but I was vastly let down by that movie overall.**

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* * *

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**Chapter 23:**

**The Lion Heart Returns to England**

"I think you should wear the green one," Annette said finally.

Chloe bit her lip. "Are you sure?"

"I'm serious. The pink is pretty on you, but the green brings out your eyes, and I thought you said green was Oliver's favorite color."

"All right," Chloe relented. "Green it is." Annette grinned triumphantly, and began pulling the lacy forrest green concoction off the hanger. "Thanks for coming over, by the way." She paused. "Why are you here again?"

"To help you get ready!" Annette insisted, her tone full of undisclosed meaning.

Chloe narrowed her eyes. "What are you hiding?"

Annette's eyes turned round and innocent. "Me? Hiding something? I can't imagine what you mean! Where are the earrings he gave you on your birthday last year? They'll look perfect with that dress," she added hurriedly, instantly busying herself in going through Chloe's jewelry. "Can I do your makeup?" she asked excitedly, straightening up so quickly Chloe was forcibly reminded of a prairie dog.

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Um...okay?"

Annette squealed with delight. "Awesome! I brought false eyelashes!" she brandished them happily.

Chloe blinked at her. "Umm...Annette?"

"Yes?"

"First, you're not putting those on my face. Second, what's going on?"

Annette sighed. "Okay, okay. My boyfriend is out of town visiting family and I'm living vicariously through you."

Chloe laughed. "Is _that_ what this is about?" She sat down on the couch. "All right, do your worst."

* * *

Oliver was laughing good-naturedly over a joke one of his father's friends had just told, but his laughter died away when he looked up and saw her.

He doubted whether Chloe had ever looked more beautiful in her entire life. He absently passed his drink off to a startled bystander and made his way across the floor to find her.

"What," he asked, placing an appreciative kiss on her lips, "took you so long?"

"Annette," Chloe said, smiling at his welcome, his fingers intertwining with hers. "She went on this big make-over trip. I couldn't break away."

"Makeover, huh?" He dropped one of her hands and used the other to spin her around for his viewing pleasure. "Well I'll have to thank her tomorrow. You look absolutely amazing." He spun her back into his arms and kissed her again.

"Well, thank you. I guess I'll have to thank her as well," Chloe said, pleased. Then a slight crease formed at her brow. "What's got you so on edge?"

He looked confused. "On edge?" he repeated. "I'm fine."

Eyebrow still quirked, she turned her attention to other things. "Where are your parents? I've missed them."

"They're over talking to the Porters. I'll...catch up with you in just a moment."

Chloe didn't miss the way his hand dove unconsciously into his pocket for a second before resurfacing. "Right," she said, staring at his hand. "Don't be long," she added after a moment, smiling again.

He nodded, swallowing tightly as he watched her vanish into the crowd with a swish of green lace.

He nearly jumped a mile when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He turned to see his father.

"Dad!" he said in surprise. He looked in the direction Chloe had gone. "I just sent - "

"Don't worry, I'll visit with Chloe in a minute. I've missed her, as well."

Oliver nodded, his hand automatically dipping into his pocket again.

"Son, we need to have a chat," Robert said, steering Oliver out of the room and into the hallway.

Oliver barely had time to stutter in surprise.

"Are you absolutely sure you're ready for this?" Robert asked.

"I...um...what?" Oliver asked, confused.

"Please, I think pretty much everyone in that room has figured out what this evening is really about Oliver. The presence of all of Chloe's friends from Metropolis in our kitchen as well as her father were a pretty big giveaway. Not that I mind that the party wasn't solely for your mother and I, of course," he added good-naturedly.

Oliver just stared at his father. "I thought you liked Chloe..." he said weakly, wondering why his father had brought him out there.

"Like her? I love her. I think she's amazing. I have strong suspicions that she's too good for you."

"Thanks, Dad. Love you, too."

"Oliver, look, I don't want us to be missing from the festivities for too long, so I'll just out with it: you won't be able to have a real marriage with Chloe - one that will last forever - if you can't be honest with her. Does she know?"

Oliver's jaw fell open slightly. _"Know?"_ he repeated.

Robert rolled his eyes. "Yes, Oliver. Does she know that you're the Green Arrow?"

Oliver stood stock still, incapable of speaking for a full two minutes before he finally managed the single word, "What?"

"Your mother figured it out. Apparently she's been keeping it from me for a while now and finally told me shortly after our little incident over the Atlantic Ocean."

"How did she -"

Robert shook his head. "She's a mother. They know these things. Don't ask me how. They just do. The more important matter at hand is whether or not Chloe knows."

Oliver, still shell-shocked from this information, barely managed, "I...yeah. She does. Has for almost a year now."

Robert Queen looked mildly surprised and thoroughly impressed. "Does she? Well, good. I guess maybe you do know what you're getting into. We should get back out there."

He turned to leave, and Oliver followed, a man in a trance. Just at the doorway, however, his father turned around abruptly. "I almost forgot to say," he began, resting a hand on Oliver's shoulder and looking him sternly in the eye, "how proud I am of the man you've become, and how much I approve of Chloe and hope she'll give you the answer you're looking for." With that, he squeezed Oliver's shoulder affectionately, and turned away to rejoin the throng of the party.

Oliver wasn't sure what to do. He stood for a moment, staring after his father, still not entirely sure he'd just had the conversation he thought he'd had.

Finally he shook himself, remembering that he was on a mission. He crossed the room to look for Chloe. When he found her, she was being fussed over by his mother.

"Oliver, darling, there you are!" His mother said, coming to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Did your father find you?" she asked, smoothing his lapel.

Oliver nodded, eyes on Chloe.

"Good. I was just telling Chloe about Edinburgh. The two of you should go there sometime. It's absolutely lovely." At this, Chloe's face flushed bright pink in embarrassment.

Oliver grinned. "Yeah, we should."

"You know, I think I see a friend," Laura said, as though she weren't in a room full of people she was friends with. "I'll just leave you two alone," she said, shooting Oliver a significant look.

Oliver tried not to wish the ground would swallow him. At least his mother was leaving before she could drop any more hints.

Chloe was slipping a hand around his elbow, giggling. "I _missed_ your mother," she sighed. "She makes me feel like I'm the most amazing girl she's ever known."

"Well you're the most amazing girl _I've_ ever known," Oliver grinned, "so I guess it's not that much of a stretch."

Chloe beamed, cheeks flushing again.

Oliver steeled himself "Hey, there's something -"

"Chloe Sullivan, you beautiful woman!" Oliver was interrupted by another man pulling Chloe from his arms to give her a fervent kiss on the cheek. "Between you and me, I've been through so many different galaxies I've lost track, but I still haven't seen anyone pretty enough to top Carol _or_ you."

"Hal," Chloe greeted him, pleased to see the Green Lantern safely back in the Milky Way. She gave him a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm great, Chloe. And I owe you big time for the story you set up for me. Looks like it was airtight. I haven't run into one complication since I've been back." He turned to see Oliver. "Ollie. Glad to see you two quit being idiots about each other since I left." He grinned roguishly at Oliver, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Good to see you, too, Hal," Oliver responded with grim sarcasm, though Chloe could tell he was secretly pleased to see Hal.

"So when are you going to make an honest woman out of her?" Hal asked, completely unaware of the context of his joke.

Oliver's ears grew hot and Chloe laughed.

"God knows I could use a little honestly in my life, eh, Ollie?" she asked him, eyes dancing.

"Yep. Definitely. Honesty. Right."

Chloe and Hal both looked at him with raised eyebrows. Suddenly a look of realization came over Hal's face. "Well, I think I see Bruce Wayne. I owe him a good rodent joke. Talk to you kids later."

"Are you feeling all right, Ollie?" Chloe asked when he was gone.

"Yeah, I -"

"Hey, bossman, you seen - hey, Chloelicious!" Chloe allowed herself to be embraced, a startled expression etched across her face.

"Bart? What are you doing here?"

Bart looked like he'd just realized he'd done something stupid, and before he could speak, Oliver intervened.

"That thing you're looking for, Bart? I think it's _in-the-kitchen_," Oliver said pointedly.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe repeated, still confused.

"Me? Gate-crashing," Bart said unconvincingly. "Free food. Hot ladies. You know me. Right, well I'm going to go get the - the thing. Bye."

Chloe watched him leave with a cinched brow.

"What's Bart doing here?" she asked Oliver.

"Bart? Like he said. Gate-crashing. I asked him to drop by some intel early today. Guess he postponed so he could check out the party."

"He was wearing _a tie._"

Oliver looked mirthlessly in the direction Bart had run off to and silently promised to clobber him later. "Never mind that. Chloe, let's step outside. I need some air."

She smiled amusedly. "We've barely been here an hour, but okay."

Oliver took her hand and led her outside, both of them blissfully ignorant of the expectant eyes watching their retreating backs.

In the fresh night air, Chloe took an appreciative breath, shivering just a little at the change in climate. "My gosh it's absolutely beautiful out tonight, isn't it?" she asked, looking up at the stars. With no moon out, she could see each and every one. The Queen's gardens were remarkable, floral perfumes dancing daintily on the cool night breeze and the faint rustle of leaves just audible to her. The music from the party hung muffled in the background.

"Stunning," Oliver agreed. He opened his mouth again, but the words didn't come out. Really? _Really?_ After a lifetime of over-confidence, arrogance, and egotism, _now_ he was chickening out?

All of a sudden the words spilled out of him before he could gather himself. "Chloe, will you marry me?" he asked abruptly. _So much for smooth._

Chloe's body started violently before it went rigid with surprise. Slowly, she turned to face Oliver.

Taking heart in the fact that she wasn't already stammering out a no, he forged ahead. "I had this whole fantastic speech planned out about how much I love you and care about you and how you bring out the best in me, and there was a great line about sidekicks and partners but for the life of me, I can't remember a word of it, but Chloe," he got down on his knee and pulled a ring out of his pocket, "I love you more than anything in the world and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please say yes."

Chloe opened her mouth several times and closed it several times. A strangled sob of joy escaped her throat before she finally gave up any attempt at speech and nodded her head fervently, a happy hiccup escaping her as tears filled her eyes. It was all Oliver needed. The next moment he was slipping the ring on her finger and sweeping her into a kiss, happiness so overwhelming him that that kiss was the only outlet he could find for it.

The laughter finally bubbling to Chloe's lips forced their mouths to break apart.

"Please share the joke," Oliver said, grinning as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"You actually managed to keep a secret from me. _All of you_," she giggled. "I mean, I knew _something_ was up, but I honestly didn't see this coming.

* * *

When the two of them finally re-entered the manor and Oliver announced their engagement, they were met with applause and cheers and congratulations a-plenty.

The long list of people who had been hiding in the kitchen finally made their appearances. Clark, Lois, the Justice League, Mrs. Kent, Lana Lang, and of course, her father all had to make their individual sentiments known, most of them pleased. Bart feigned broken-heartedness, and Clark, Lois, and her dad all made some sort of thinly-veiled threat about hurting Chloe, but still smiled and beamed just the same. Oliver was told to "kiss the bride" at least a dozen times, not that he complained. He took the opportunity to kiss her soundly on the mouth every time, leaving Chloe just about swooning by the end of the night.

Oliver's parents in particular were overflowing with congratulations and happiness.

When Chloe and Oliver finally found themselves alone later that night, it was a startling relief to have their hands to themselves.

And Oliver certainly was keeping his hands to himself, Chloe noted with displeasure. Then something finally occurred to her. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed abruptly.

"What?" he looked up.

"You're _saving _yourself!" she accused mirthfully.

He grinned slyly. "Well, not exactly. But sort of."

"What do you mean, 'sort of?' "

"Well," he said, walking up to her to slide his hands over her hips. "I sort of came to the conclusion that it would be particularly romantic to wait for the honeymoon."

Chloe pouted. "That long? What if I don't want to wait?" she asked, smiling deviously as she slid her hands up his chest.

"Well then," he told her with a smirk, "I guess we'll have to see who has the stronger willpower."

Chloe grinned. "Really? It'll be that easy, huh?"

"I've waited this long, haven't I?"

The corner of her lip twitched. "Exactly."

He rolled his eyes. "Have I mentioned how very, very much I love you, future wife?"

Chloe smile softened into a warm glow. "I love you, too, Ollie." She rose up on her toes to kiss him gently. "You're my hero."

**Author's Comment: Yes, that's all there is. There isn't any more. If you're wondering what's up to bat, check my profile.**

**Thanks for everything!**

**BlueSuedeShoes**


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